Children of Fate: To Shoot a Butterfly
by Praeceps
Summary: If you had a butterfly fluttering about the colonies, what would you do? Heero's going to shoot it. R & R!
1. Prologue

Hey!

YES I PROMISE! THIS WILL BE THE LAST NEW FIC I START! After this one, I'll begin rotating.

Lets see how this goes before we comment anymore.

Now on with the show!

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon or Gundam Wing, and right now I'm too lazy to look up who actually does. I'm just stating that it's certainly not me.

**Prologue**

When had it gone wrong?

When Galaxia came for her star seed, wanting to be the strongest?

When Nephrenia came with her Darkmoon Circus, seeking revenge, to fulfil a forgotten curse?

Was it when Saturn was infected by Mistress 9, so that Pharaoh 90 might possess her world?

When Prince Diamond wished to own her, destroying her future with the aid of a phantom?

When Beryl grew jealous of her love, letting herself be controlled by a monster?

Or was it earlier?

Was it when a cat with faulty memories came into her room, claiming she was the champion of justice?

Was it when the silver crystal merged with Tsukino Ikuko's unborn child, altering it forever?

Was it when Selene tampered with fate and let her daughter be reborn after she'd committed suicide?

Everything has a price. They just didn't know it would be _that_ high.

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**_Praeceps:_**

**_I'm beginning to notice a trend of short prologues… sigh._**

**_This story will actually be a bit different, writing wise, compared to my other fics. The chapters both longer (once you get past prologue), and the perspective and tone is… different from my usual way of writing. I hope it works out. _**

**_One last note, I'd like to hear what you think of this fic (don't all authors, eh?), and point out beforehand that complaints about OOC-ness and pairings will be ignored Thank you for your attention._**

**_Oh! And any spelling mistakes can be blamed on incompetent English teachers, and/or my spell-check program, because I, myself, am PERFECT! ;-P (and when I say I am perfect, I MEAN perfect. My daddy said so ;-P )_**

**_If you have any questions about the story that you find unclear, I will do my best to answer them, as long as I deem them of no harm to my present plot-line. I really appreciate all your ramblings (not in any way meant as insulting, just clearing that up), and might use some for inspiration if permitted, but for now I have my own agenda. _**

**_-_**

**_Well that was all, for today at least, toodles! ;-D_**


	2. Part 1: Ignorance

Hey!

YES I PROMISE! THIS WILL BE THE LAST NEW FIC I START! After this one, I'll begin rotating.

Lets see how this goes before we comment anymore.

Now on with the show!

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon or Gundam Wing, and right now I'm too lazy to look up who actually does. I'm just stating that it's certainly not me.

-

**Part 1: Ignorance**

I have always been special. I didn't know that when I was little, but even then… I was different.

The thing is, even though I was a teeny bit more clumsy, a little more prone to accidents, and slightly strange things seemed to happen around me, I was happy. I thought I was normal. That I was like everyone else.

That idea went out the window when a cat turned around and started speaking to me.

I freaked. I mean, can you blame me? Here I am, thinking _I'm a regular average girl_, just like all my friends, but then… no, I'm not.

Ignorance _is_ bliss.

Luna was a _very_ ambitious cat. Not only did she talk, but she insisted on turning me into a magical warrior freak._ I_, girl-who-trembles-at-the-sight-of-mad-teacher-Haruna, who really _is_ quite terrifying, am expected to walk up to evil incarnate and smite them with a glowing tiara while wearing a skimpy outfit. I am feeling very brave right now…

Now I had to deal with not only bad luck and clumsiness, but running into devils and aliens, all out to kill me with new devious plots, one more ingenious than the other, each day.

…

Swell…

Okay, so it turned out alright. Apparently I'm not that bad at smiting monsters, or more often: evil henchmen / minions clad in various colourful clothes lacking cloth. Magic and skimpy outfits seem to travel hand in hand these days.

I was actually _so_ _good_ at smiting the evil bastards that they kept coming back for more. I would have gotten swamped, but prancing about in short skirted armour and making speeches turns out to be an amazing way to meet new friends. Imagine that…

I now have a handsome fiancé and dozens of doting magical-warrior bodyguards, all who rant about how precious I am, how the world would be worthless without me and how they would die for me, then expect me to do all the dirty work. Much like Luna does, only less bossing, more worshipping.

Of course, being a skilled leader of magical girls fighting for justice _does_ _not_ grant me these perks. No, no, no. _These_ perks come from being the reborn princess of a long dead kingdom, whose _mother_ wouldn't let stay dead when she committed suicide over lost love. When it rains, it pours…

Suffice to say, we made it through. I ain't dead yet. I live to fight another day. And I _mean_ '**fight** another day'.

I have fought the past, I have fought the future, I have protected the outside from aliens, I have protected the inside from nightmares, I have won a war of loneliness, and been one with the universe and its stars. You'd think I'd run out of things to fight by now…

With each new battle, I've grown more powerful. With each new victory, I've become a little more different.

Please don't get me wrong, being a magical princess warrior was never something I dreamt about being when I was little. I wanted to be a bride, in a white dress with a pretty veil. I wanted to marry a handsome husband who was faithful to me, who loved me with all his heart and would buy me tons of ice-cream. Okay, the ice-cream bit was the child speaking, but my point was: I wanted to be normal, I had normal dreams like any normal girl with a normal life. And I was pulled from that dream kicking and screaming.

The funny thing is, I'm sort of happy. I have a future husband with an inferiority complex. I have a bunch of royal worrywarts for friends and soldiers. I have talking cats for advisors and a pink haired brat for a daughter. And I love them all with all my heart. For all their flaws, they make giving up my dreams worth it. Without them, I'm lost…

My heartache has always been the belief that I _was_ once normal, that my difference came from a pussycat with _Swiss_ _cheese_ for brains, forcing me to become magic so that I might find _myself_. Yes, the irony is not lost on me.

Earth was never this active on the enemy hit list before Luna made me magic, and I tire of fighting…

Pluto told us Galaxia was the last. At age twenty-two I will develop some grace, become elegant and poised, and ascend the throne of Earth as Neo-Queen Serenity. Till then we will have peace. That is my destiny. And I deserve a couple of years of normalcy before I give it all up.

So _why_ am I _still_ stumbling into retched plots and muscled demon-women out for my life!

Everywhere I turn as Tsukino Usagi trouble finds me.

Yesterday I sat in a sandpit, playing with a little girl I was babysitting, and a mud-monster slid out and tried to swallow me. The day before I'd gone stargazing with Mamoru, it was really romantic, and we ran into a pack of werewolves. Last week I had three different encounters with possessed food. It's _not_ funny!

Demons, devils, goblins, ghouls; spirits, youma, daemons, droids; you name it, by now I've fought it. Everywhere I go, they follow. And they grow more powerful as each day goes by.

My senshi are exhausted.

Pluto, miss I-know-everything-but-I'm-not-gonna-tell-you-because-irritateing-you–is-my-calling-in-life, is mystified.

Tuxedo Mask is running out of roses.

We all stopped sprouting speeches two weeks ago.

Coffee is our new best friend.

So we called a meeting / pyjamas-party…

"Usagi-hime, I think I know why this is happening."

Oh-oh. Considering how long Mercury, Neptune and Pluto have been working together on this, you'd think they'd be more ecstatic over solving this conundrum. When even Pluto has a long face like that, it's time to worry.

"Usagi-chan, let's recap what we know about you."

Sure, let's listen to my real life sob-story. _Both_ of them.

"In your previous life you were born a princess, Princess Serenity of the Silver Millennium. When you were… er… a young adult," that's my Ami-chan, skilfully avoiding the fact that I was 442 years old when I met my Mamo-chan's past self, "you fell in love with Prince Endymion. When the Dark Kingdom killed him, you committed suicide."

"You were meant to die, Usagi-hime," little Hotaru-chan cries out, interrupting the storytellers, "Queen Selene-sama ripped you out of fates patchwork when she used the crystal."

The bulging eyes of two of the storytellers, Ami and Michiru, evidence of this being news to them, intrigues me, though the resigned sigh escaping the time-guardians lips shows that she had thought as much. Hota-chan's been keeping secrets. Naughty Saturn.

"Please continue Ami-san," murmurs Setsuna, massaging her temples.

"Yes, well," she continues, rather flustered if I do say so myself, "Queen Selene used the Imperium Crystal to send her daughter's soul into the future, to be reborn. That soul, and the crystal, merged with Tsukino-san's unborn child."

Michiru takes on the storytellers gauntlets, both of the water-senshi casting sideway glances at Hotaru as she continues, "We had _thought_ that _that_ might be _why_ you were born…"

Both of them grimace rather nastily, searching for the right word.

"…_different_." Let's give an applause to Pluto. Only _she_ would have the guts to say that out loud.

"Yes, different, but now that Hotaru has-"

"Moving on." Yes, a very stony gaze from Setsuna. Brrr…

"Then Luna came along, fourteen years later, and made you fight Metallia as Sailor Moon instead of as Serenity."

Luna gives an indignant huff, blushing under her dark fur. I'd probably do the same if somebody was pointing out _my_ embarrassing blunders, but then again it happens so often to me that I've become rather desensitized to it all.

Michiru gracefully takes over, having a better memory of her past life than Ami does, smoothing her skirt of non-existing wrinkles, "The thing is, Usagi-chan, that there never was a Sailor Moon in the Silver Millennium. Luna forced you to create an entirely new magical body because she couldn't remember. And because you were… special… you didn't die."

I, myself, feel oddly detached from this titbit of information, but I can feel Mamoru's hands tighten around me as the other senshi gasp. Did it not occur to them before? And they call me odango-baka. Tsk…

"You knew all this, didn't you Usagi-hime."

This isn't a question, but a statement. Our revered Pluto-sama knows everything. That doesn't matter, I love her anyway; though that husky voice still irks me compared to my squeaky voice.

This is _my_ life, _my_ body, we are discussing here. Of course I freaking know!

When it becomes obvious that I'm not dignifying that with an answer, my royal stare, a frigid glare I don't get to practice very often, is answer enough, Setsuna stands up, Garnet Key-staff in hand. In the centre of the room we're in, a hologram of Neo-Queen Serenity takes form, a pretty little Earth in the background.

"You all know that at age 22, Serenity will be crowned Queen," Pluto narrates, "But why does she take the form of Serenity? Usagi _is_ Serenity, and she already holds a place in this world. Why not ascend as Queen Usagi?"

Well for one, Usagi doesn't want to be queen. Not that Serenity does either, but she's better equipped for politics. Besides, what's this got to do with me constantly being attacked?

"Usagi-chan, can we perform a small test on you? Maybe you all will see where we're heading with all this," Ami asks, voice demure, pleading puppy-dog eyes settling on me. Rats!

Occupying the space where the hologram previously rested, I am urged to transform entirely into my Serenity-form. It's a snap to do, but being naked in front of a bunch of hormonal teenagers, several which are either male or lesbians, is not very enticing. I do it anyway. Anything for my Ami-chan.

"Do you know what this is, Serenity-hime?"

Senshi Pluto is pointing to an enlarged mirror, covered in frost, which is probably Mercury's touch. The frame continuously morphs, liquid metal slithering to find new ways to combine, altering between the Neptune mirror, and Pluto's gazing mirrors, the ones she uses to spy on us from the time-gate. Only Mercury's ice is holding it together.

The mirror's surface keeps rippling, like the sea, and if you look closely, you can see ghostly people moving about, their images fluctuating. It's pretty, in a haunted sort of way.

"This is the Mirror of Fate, or technically it will be, once Mars blows her fire on it. Mars…?"

Rei herself, looks rather doubtfully at the item in question, but by Setsuna's order she transforms. If you ask me, that wasn't really necessary. Rei-chan is a Shinto-priestess, she _prays_ to the fire, _hell_ she _is_ the fire. The fire Pluto needs doesn't have to be Mars's; spirit fire is spirit fire.

Looking into the mirror, what else did you think I was supposed to do with it, I see myself. I see Serenity looking back, and in the distance a more ghostly Neo-Queen. If I squint, I can see a third figure, a humanoid hidden within an ethereal white light. I like that light, it's the light of my star seed, the light of my soul. It's who I really am.

Pluto hums, satisfied, and I take that as my queue to detransform.

Where Serenity had stood, mostly alone, in the mirror, now stands thousands of ghostly Usagi's, all facing their very own mirror. They all stare back at me in surprise, and in the background of the mirror you can see the senshi's gaping reflections.

For a long drawn out second all we did was stare at each other. Then my reflections opened their mouths and a horrible keening wail broke across the room as all their voices melded together into a symphony of terror, making the very structure of Rei's shrine tremble with vibration. Each ghostly image pounded on their crystal prison that was the mirror, and slowly you could see cracks forming in the glass, racing across the surface, forming a spider web of lines.

The mirror shattered. If you look at it in slow-motion, you'll see a beautiful image. A broken image. Thousands of tiny slivers of glass falling in a graceful arc; a glint of light reflecting off every single piece, making them appear as drops of rain, sparkling as they fall.

Down they fall. Down, down, down. And idly I can't seem to help but wonder if seven years of bad luck will follow; after all, it's a magical mirror. I broke the Mirror of Fate. Does that mean I have no fate? Hotaru said that I was fateless from the day I was born. Does that mean I killed Chibiusa?

I don't want to see those shards hit the floor. I don't want to know that Chibiusa will never become a Lady. I don't want to know that everything I fought for was a lie. Because if I have no fate, than there will be no Crystal Tokyo, and I will have no future. Chibiusa will have no future, because Chibiusa will not exist. I would have killed a child. I would have killed my daughter.

_If those shards fall…_

Somewhere, in a corner of my mind that I never use, where I am different, I can see time slowing down. Somewhere in my mind, I can see my eyes glaze over from shock. Yes, I am in shock, aren't I? There is nothing we can do, nothing that can stop this breakdown. I am breaking like the mirror before me…

I can feel Serenity cowering, weeping in a corner at the thought of her loss. The loss of Serenity and Endymion's daughter. My daughter, that… _is not_ my daughter.

I can stop this. I can stop the shards from falling. I can make Chibiusa, Small Lady, my daughter the pink haired child, come alive again. Because _I am Serenity_, Lover of Endymion, Mother of Chibiusa, Empress of the Earth, but Serenity_ is not **me**_.

Suddenly, there are no shards falling. The million sparkles that would doom me, have stopped. The millions of Usagi's trapped in the mirror are gone. The wind is blowing, flowing through me. And now… there are _two_ of me, and a million butterflies are circling my skin, making the wind pick up as they brush against me.

Serenity is no longer weeping. Standing there, tall and regal, she is looking at me, surprised. We have never met, this must be the first time she has ever seen me. But she knows me, just as I know her. Different life. Different memory. Same soul. And we both remember now. Everything.

Her hair is pale now, but once it was silver. Now she's a part of me as I'm a part of her, melded together, and the colour it dons is a pale platinum gold. Her eyes are brilliant pools reflecting the night sky, dark blue with flecks of silver for stars. She is wearing my clothes. Am I naked…? No, I'm covered in butterflies…

Why am I here? Why do I remember all? What am I? Millions of butterflies are crawling over my skin, and I feel nothing. My body is numb yet teaming with sensations as I look my soul in the eyes. If she is me, then who am I?

I am no longer Serenity, this I know in my heart, but I remember a life as her…

I remember my life as Usagi, but… _am_ I her? Am I _really_ still Tsukino Usagi, Rabbit of the Moon?

_Who_ am I! _What_ am I! If I am looking at myself, then where does that leave _me_! What… _WHAT_ _HAS_ _HAPPENED TO ME_! _WHO_ _AM_ _I! WHO _AM_ I!_

"You are Yami no Hikari, Hanasu na Unmei, and always our beloved Usagi, Rabbit of the Butterflies."

Thank you, Pluto…

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**_Praeceps:_**

**_Aaaaaaaaand_****_ we have the first chapter. Jippi for me!_**

**_Okey_****_, this was my attempt to correct mistakes. If it still came out wrong (scrolling wise) then I'm stumped on what to do. Let's cross our fingers that this'll work._**

**_Oh, by the way, was delighted by the reviews I received, can't wait for more! _**

**_One last note, I'd like to hear what you think of this fic (don't all authors, eh?), and point out beforehand that complaints about OOC-ness and pairings will be ignored. It's going to be a Usa/Heero pairing, but to be honest I thought that was a bit obviouse from how I wrote the summary (oh well)…_**

**_Thank you for your attention._**

**_Oh! And any spelling mistakes can be blamed on incompetent English teachers, and/or my spell-check program, because I, myself, am PERFECT! ;-P (and when I say I am perfect, I MEAN perfect. My daddy said so ;-P )_**

**_If you have any questions about the story that you find unclear, I will do my best to answer them, as long as I deem them of no harm to my present plot-line. I really appreciate all your ramblings (not in any way meant as insulting, just clearing that up), and might use some for inspiration if permitted, but for now I have my own agenda. _**

**_-_**

**_Well that was all, for today at least, toodles! ;-D_**


	3. Part 2: Knowledge

Hey!

YES I PROMISE! THIS WILL BE THE LAST NEW FIC I START! After this one, I'll begin rotating.

Lets see how this goes before we comment anymore.

Now on with the show!

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon or Gundam Wing, and right now I'm too lazy to look up who actually does. I'm just stating that it's certainly not me.

**Part 2: Knowledge**

Standing before a broken mirror, stands two of me.

One was once me, the tsukihime, princess of the moon, looking every bit the royalty that she is, though this is the first time I ever remember seeing her wearing a school uniform. My school uniform… It looks nice on her, and even though she's me, that thought stings a little…

I myself, am naked. Butterflies are all that cover me; magical butterflies that sprang from the broken mirror.

It sounds immodest, standing there naked, especially in front of all my friends, but… somehow, it isn't. And besides, whatever the butterflies can't cover, my hair will, because this is a new body, and my hair is cascading down in falls, no longer in odango's. Just long golden falls… It's darker than Serenity's, but some of her silver has leached into my gold, just as mine has with hers.

Mamo-chan is hovering between us, looking lost. I feel sorry for the poor soul, now that there are two Usako's. Why are there two Usako's? Which one should he comfort? Would one hate him if he went to the other? Which one is the right one? And so he comes to a standstill.

You'd think with the amount of awe the senshi have bestowed upon me, that they'd be thrilled by another hime to worship. But that's just not so… most of them are looking a little shell-shocked, and a couple of them look like they're debating whether to henshin or not.

The darker more sardonic side of my psyche is rather grimly amused by their reaction. Split in two and I'm automatically elevated to 'threat'. How… quaint.

The rest of me can't help but look wearily at them, feeling rather small and timid with so many eyes on me. And there's no mistake that it's _me_ they're looking at. I'm the one that am standing naked. I'm the one that the mirror reacted to. I'm the one that is not their tsukihime, made obvious by my lack of golden crescent. My only saving grace is Pluto, naming me Usagi, and that _one_ _name_ still has enough sway to still their hands.

"What happened?" Mamoru asks, looking rather dazed towards Ami and Pluto.

Ami is the first to open her mouth, she's so used to being the one they ask for help since Pluto so rarely shows up, that it's become an automatic reaction, but she's just as dazed as the rest of them, and after several failed attempts to speak simply squeaks shaking her head, looking to Pluto for answers. This is simply too out of her league.

Setsuna smiles comfortingly to her, but doesn't say anything, simply lifting a finger to her mouth, a sign for silence. Calm crimson eyes then turn to Hotaru, the youngest of us all, who has during this time silently risen and slowly reached out her hand to touch me.

Her touch feels timid, light and slightly hesitant as her fingers slide down my flesh, my muscles slightly trembling as they loose the warmth of the butterflies.

"You're Sailor Moon, aren't you…" she breathes, her big violet eyes wide with wonder as the disturbed butterflies flutter back to my bare skin.

_"The thing is, Usagi-chan, that there never was a Sailor Moon in the Silver Millennium. Luna forced you to create an entirely new magical body…"_

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and breath out. I can feel the butterflies leaving my body, the soft brush of their wings as they disappear into nothingness, their magical connection severed as their magic returns to me.

A soft wind caresses my skin, creating the illusion of them still being there, but I know that they're gone, just as I know, that I feel, that the wind is wrapping me in clothes, clothes that will sooth my senshi's minds, the smooth weight of a familiar tiara settling on my forehead as my arms are wrapped in long silken gloves.

Opening my eyes, I finally speak for the first time during this meeting, "Yes I am, aren't I?"

Hotaru is smiling at me, as is Pluto. The rest of them are still looking a bit unsure of me, but at least Rei and Haruka don't look homicidal anymore. Mamoru has gone to Serenity, not yet holding her, for fear of mistaken identity, but all the same, it is _her_ he is standing by.

It hurts.

"When Serenity ascended the throne at the age of twenty-two we all knew she would lose her ability to become Sailor Moon, but nobody thought to ask why, or how it happened," Pluto began, keeping eye contact with the senshi until they lowered theirs to the ground before she continued, her eyes boring into mine, as if willing me to understand.

"As Saturn said, Queen Selene _did_ tamper with fate when she used the Silver Crystal. Serenity was destined to die that day, but she didn't, instead she was sent into the future."

In the background you could see Serenity shiver at that piece of knowledge as Pluto told it. But then again, so did I… after all, we're the same person… I would have died as well…

"When Usagi was born, she was born outside of fate, because she was depraved of her original destiny when the crystal swept her from her death; thus everything she touches, everything she's connected to, is affected by her presence, because she is beyond the scheme of life."

"Usagi-chan, have you ever heard of the butterfly effect?" Pluto interrupted herself, causing both me, the senshi and the… loving couple… to jump at the sudden change of topic.

I have not heard of this famous theory, and judging from the looks of the others, neither have most of them. This is an excellent place for Ami to redeem herself.

"It's the chaos-theory, a theory many scientist have debated about throughout the years: 'A butterfly flapping its wing in one part of the world may change the weather patterns in another.' The point of it is that a tiny flap of a wing may orchestrate a tornado, that if the butterfly had not flapped its wings, would never have happened."

"Correct," Pluto nods, making Ami beam with pride.

Tapping her time-staff against floor, making her seem oddly nervous, a very disturbing thought, she looks me in the eye, "You are a butterfly, Usagi…"

Oh…

"And Serenity is not."

Even I can hear the heartache in Setsuna-san's words. And that does bring some comfort as all my dreams fall to pieces.

And it all makes sense now. Because I am a butterfly, all the monsters have come my way; because everything I touch turns to chaos. That's why all the attacks stayed in Tokyo, when Metallia would have been much smarter to attack elsewhere. That's why I always stumbled into their plots, however well they're hidden. Because of chaos.

"Together you and Serenity make Tsukino Usagi, and your life has been as normal as it could be till now, because it's not as strong when you are joined. When you hit puberty the chaos activated, bringing Luna and your magical powers. But the chaos also brought the awakening of your past life, a life where you were not a butterfly, and therefore limited the amount of chaos surrounding you and Tokyo. But you can't escape chaos, even bonded with Serenity; you saw it getting worse; and it will keep growing stronger the longer you stay in one place."

I don't want to believe this. It's too much. I don't want to be a butterfly. There has to be a way out of this…

"W-whose body am I in then?"

"That's the magical body you created. Sailor Moon's."

"S-so this body's not real?"

I'm a ghost! I don't have a proper body anymore! Is nobody as _horrified_ as I am!

Ami actually speaks to me this time, instead of gawking at me like the rest of them.

"No, no, Usagi-chan! Think of it this way: Every senshi has two bodies, one normal body, the one we use for daily life, and then the magical body, that we use to fight with. Both bodies are a part of us, proper flesh and blood, but the magical one is… enhanced… a warriors body. When we get hurt in battle, we dehenshin, and while we reside in our other body, the magical one heals."

"Then why did I get this body?"

I don't want to be magic! Serenity was the magical one! All I wanted to be was _normal_! _NORMAL_!

When I fall to the ground, very much like a sack of potatoes, Pluto pulls the big one on all of us. I've always known that Pluto can be motherly; hell, I've seen her with Chibiusa; Chibiusa, I'm not going to be her mother, am I?

As I fall apart on the ground, she sits down beside me, hugging my back, rubbing soothing circles as I cry.

"Sssh…" she croons softly, stroking my hair, "You were born with Serenity's soul, Usagi-chan. Your normal body is part Serenity. Serenity was never a butterfly, and the only body she could reside in when you split apart was that body over there. Sailor Moon however, didn't exist when Serenity lived; she's pure you, a pure butterfly, and that's why you are special."

I am no longer Serenity, that's what they've been telling me. As kindly as they're telling me this, that's at the heart of it. Being Serenity was the only reason I was among the senshi, because I was their tsukihime.

Now I may still hold her memories and all the knowledge she contained, knowledge that was unleashed when we separated, but I am no longer the tsukihime. My friends are going to leave me…

How ironic… I got my wish: a chance to quit the Sailor Senshi. After all, that's what I've been whining about all these years I've been fighting. And now my chance is here, all I have to do is give up all my friends and my fiancé, to forget my future daughter and the man I love with all my heart. And I don't have any choice but to take it and watch the person that is me, and yet is not me, have all the things I've fought for these two years for free.

"Heh, minna… a-at least I d-don't have to worry about d-dying, and my parents n-not finding out. I can spend more time with them now, ne?"

The stony eyed look they all share, though some of them _are_ crying, lets me know I've forgotten something.

_"…it will keep growing stronger the longer you stay in one place."_

"I… can't stay here, can I…?"

"Oh, Usagi-chan, we were hoping we were wrong," my first senshi-friend, Ami, weeps, "It'll only get worse, until the chaos-effect ends."

And that's not until I die… I am going to be doomed into an endless wander, leaving all that I know; my friends, my family, my… the senshi, I'm never going to see them again, too busy fleeing the chaos that I bring.

"Serenity is _also_ you, and they are _her_ family as well. She'll," Michiru catches herself, trying to soften the blow, "We'll watch over them for you…"

"Can't I stay?" I'm desperate. Worse than not being normal, I don't want to be _alone_! Give me a million talking cats, a dozen future progeny, a hundred youma dancing the conga naked, just don't leave me alone…!

"This world has had it's struggles. Now is time for peace. A few years from now, Crystal Tokyo will be erected, but the work begins now… You can't stay, Usagi-chan. However much we love you, you simply _can't_ stay."

"Where will I go? To where _can_ I go?"

"To another world…"

* * *

After Usagi left, the other senshi bombarded Pluto with questions. After all, she was always the one that knew the most; and though they had all stood together when Usagi had been banished, they had all loved her dearly.

"Why did she have to leave!"

"Where did you send her!"

"What kind of world could possibly benefit from a butterfly!"

"Will she be happy!"

"Will she survive!"

Tugging on Pluto's skirt, little Hotaru added her thoughts to the mayhem, slight voice trembling: "Will we ever see Usa-chan again?"

Sad, crimson eyes looked back down.

"No, we'll never see her again."

Violet eyes teared up, "Where did she go?"

A small smile broke out on Pluto's face then, and her eyes glowed bright.

"The only place where she could find happiness…"

And through it all, Mamoru and Serenity stood together…

****

****

**_Praeceps:_**

**_Well, I hope that clears it up a bit more for you guys…_**

**_For anyone that's interested, I'm following the pattern of the manga Sailor Moon mostly. They actually let you know a bit more about the future in that than the anime, though they never did come up with a reasonable approach to why Serenity lost the ability to become SM. It always bugged me, so this is MY solution._**

**_I'm actually surprised that no one but '_****_Gackt_****_ Camui Loves You' wanted to know what 'Yami no Hikari' and 'Hanasu na Unmei' meant, since I didn't put up any translation… Now, I'm certainly no expert on Japanese, and I'm the first to admit that, but if I did it correctly they should mean something like this:_**

**_'Yami no Hikari'—'Light in the darkness' '(light)Ray of the darkness'_**

**_'Hanasu na Unmei'—'A release from destiny/fate' (Hanasu does mean _**to talk**_, but it's also the dictionary form of 'hanase' which means _**to release

**_If you haven't guessed it yet, she's been sent to the Gundam universe. Next chapter won't have any Usagi, but I'll be being a real bitch to poor Heero, and letting you know what's happened over there._**

**_Oh, by the way, was delighted by the amount of reviews I received, would it be too much to hope for the same kind of response with this chapter? I just loved all the insightful comments you people spouted and am now seriously curious to hear more!_**

**_One last note, I'd like to hear what you think of this fic (don't all authors, eh?), and point out beforehand that complaints about OOC-ness and pairings will be ignored. It's going to be a Usa/Heero pairing, but to be honest I thought that was a bit obvious from how I wrote the summary (oh well)…_**

**_Thank you for your attention._**

**_Oh! And any spelling mistakes can be blamed on incompetent English teachers, and/or my spell-check program, because I, myself, am PERFECT! ;-P (and when I say I am perfect, I MEAN perfect. My daddy said so ;-P )_**

**_If you have any questions about the story that you find unclear, I will do my best to answer them, as long as I deem them of no harm to my present plot-line. I really appreciate all your ramblings (not in any way meant as insulting, just clearing that up), and might use some for inspiration if permitted, but for now I have my own agenda. _**

**_-_**

**_Well that was all, for today at least, toodles! ;-D_**


	4. Part 3: Failure

Hey!

Sorry I'm late, but my granddad died, and my sister is over from Norway. It's fallen to me to entertain her, so chapters will be slow for a while…

On the positive note, my absence has let me work out most of the story and it's concepts, and has now grown into a trilogy. I'm really looking forward to writing this fic!

Now on with the show!

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon or Gundam Wing, and right now I'm too lazy to look up who actually does. I'm just stating that it's certainly not me.

-

**Part 3: Failure**

The war ended with the year AC 196.

AC 197 was a year of change; the year when fighting stopped, the year the gundams were destroyed for good, the first year to begin with peace in a long time.

When Mariemaia fell, people gained hope; a hope for a unified people, a hope for a better future, a hope for peace.

In January AC 197 Lady Une adopted Mariemaia; both are living happily on Earth, and can be found on Sundays visiting the grave of Treize Kushrenada.

Noin and Zechs eloped to outer space. Officially, nobody has seen them since, but according to the former 'Queen of the World', we have it on good regards that they are happy. Unofficially, it is said that they work as freelance-Preventers.

Chang Wufei joined the Preventers with his rebel friend Sally; both are at peace, working well together as partners.

Quatre R. Winner rejoined his loyal Magunacs after making an official appearance to the republic stating that the Winner Corporation would help rebuild the lost colonies. At this moment they are hard at work.

Trowa Barton returned to Catherine and their beloved circus. If you are lucky, you too can see the tall sad clown as they perform their daring knife throwing stunts.

Duo Maxwell went back to L2 to be with Hilde. Why? Because they were friends, and where else could a war orphan go but home? Together they run a salvage yard.

Heero…

January 8th AC 197, The Perfect Soldier, Heero Yuy, was reported missing by Miss Relena Dorlian after he vanished during one of her public speeches. She is still looking for him.

* * *

If you look beyond the trivial basic needs of most mammals, the human nature is one of habit. We are social beings that are conditioned by our people and surroundings. No matter how warped our upbringing is or bad our surrounding circumstances are, it is what we know, what we understand, and sadly what we feel most comfortable in.

It is also in the human nature to long for something better. If we've grown up in war we will naturally want peace, because peace brings safety, shelter, warmth and protection; things that we need. Of course, longing for it and getting it are two _completely_ different things.

As stated above, human beings are creatures of habit, and though they may long for something else, they can't always cope with it. If you are conditioned long enough, it will leave scars.

It's amazing how frail the human psyche is…

* * *

The beginning of March brought about the reunion of the Gundam pilots, because being children of war, having killed once, no matter where you go, there are some things you just _can't_ forget.

The reunion took place in Lady Une's mansion. Once it was Treize's, but he was dead and now she and his daughter lived there, when Une wasn't too busy running the Preventers.

The reason it took place in Une's home was due to privacy. The identities of the pilots had not been revealed, but some of the people among them were well known celebrities, like for instance Mr. Quatre R. Winner and Miss Relena Dorlian, formerly Miss Peacecraft 'Queen of the World'.

A meeting at the Preventers headquarters might offer more security, but it would also be more official and might alert the media.

"Why should we help you onna?"

"Because he needs help."

Only a snort was her reply.

Though Wufei had become more mellow after the war, there being no need for him to pose as a fierce warrior anymore, he hadn't gone complete 'limp biscuit' either. He still sneered at girls dressed in frilly pink dresses, queen or no queen, and the look he sported at the moment was one of sever disdain.

Slinging his arm over the Asians shoulder, Maxwell entered the fray with the same casual air he approached everything else.

"I'm with Wuffers on this one. He's a big boy, why would-"

"Maxwell," note the tired exasperation, hands rubbing at his temples, "can you not say my name _right_ just _once_?"

"Sure I can, Wu-chan," chirps the braided boy, ignoring the resigned sigh, "The question however isn't '_Can I_', it's '_Will I_'."

"What makes you think he needs our help?"

The fact that Trowa opened his mouth at all, is noted, and all other people's attention is shifted back to the girl pleading her case.

Nervous tension radiates throughout the room as the girl gracefully opens a briefcase containing a stack of paper documents, maintaining serious eye contact with him as she shuffles them instead of making up childish excuses. Straightening out her clothes before sitting down, she really does appear as a queen. Looking about the room, she makes sure she has everybody's attention before speaking, cool blue eyes measuring all of them.

"I know you don't approve of me, that I'm just a silly girl with an obsession, and you're probably right…"

Noin and Zechs are family, however distant they are, and certainly disagree with that notion, but remain quiet. Trowa, Wufei and Une remain wisely silent, waiting for the girl to continue. Quatre blushes, looking at his feet, while Duo merely smirks, raising a bemused eyebrow at her.

"However…" she pauses, casting a thoughtful look at her brother. "Milliardo, could you wait outside, please?"

The fact that she sent out her brother removes the last traces of doubt about her sincerity. Giving them all a last searching look, she nods to herself, before continuing.

Looking them deep in the eyes she says, "What I'm about to say will not leave this room. You will not speak of it to others, you will not make any written reports, you will forget you ever knew this if you refuse to help, and you will certainly not _joke_ about it."

Duo is still musing about whether to be insulted or not at that last comment, but the former queen has already moved on.

"January 8th of this year, Pilot 01 of the Gundam Wing Zero, Heero Yuy vanished…

* * *

Aurora Mandle had been a teacher at Dawn Academy for five years when her beliefs were shattered…

Dawn Academy is a school for youths which prides itself on its nurturing environment. It was founded by Dawn Mandle, her great-grandmother, about 150 years ago, in Sanq, and is in fact the neighbouring school of the Peacecraft Academy.

The school is surround by a small forest and a large garden, both of which the students have access to, and are in fact encouraged to spend time in. At one time there was a river flowing through the garden, but it has since then dwindled down to a small stream.

It is the tranquillity, as much as the advanced curriculum, which promotes both the pupils artistic sides and computer skills, that lures the many students to the site. The school encourages peacefulness and harmony of the mind, as well as striving to better one selves.

Miss Aurora first noticed the boy when he was enrolled in February. He was led in by the Vice-principle of the school, and introduced as the new student Hiiro Yui.

Hiiro Yui was a quiet boy. He had chocolate brown hair, dark and unruly, giving him a wild look, and the darkest blue eyes she had ever seen. Eyes that would make you shiver as they looked upon you, and made her stutter several times blushing like a schoolgirl, though she herself was way too old for him.

There was no way around it. The dark mysterious Hiiro Yui, who kept to himself, was handsome. A god according to the many girls that swarmed around him, trying to gain contact.

But Hiiro Yui was a loner. However early Aurora showed up, he would still be there, sitting in the classroom, typing on his computer.

The first week of seclusion, she thought he was only shy.

Near the end of the second week, she began to worry as he continued to ignore the other students, answering them with curt one word sentences if he answered them at all.

So she called Jamie to the side, one of the more cheerful friendly boys in her class, enquiring if he would mind trying to befriend the silent boy.

During the next interval between classes, Jamie approached Hiiro.

It all happened nearly too fast to follow. One minute Jamie was slapping Hiiro, who was bent over, back to, trying to pry some books out of his locker, on the back; the next Jamie was slammed into the lockers in the hall, eyes wide open in shock as his feet dangled in the air, hanging up by the force of one single hand connected from his throat to Hiiro Yui, the other fist hovering threateningly near his face.

Hiiro stared a full second into the terrified boy's eyes before letting go, letting Jamie slide to the floor in a puddle. He didn't apologies, simply turned around, ignoring the crowd watching them, and sat back down at his desk.

Strangely enough, the girls weren't frightened away by his display of violence, swarming even more around him after he gained the reputation as a 'bad boy'. They didn't notice that he'd stopped replying at all to their questions.

The third week the class was given an art assignment: 'Paint something that has had a huge impact on your life.'

The assignment was meant to encourage creativity and in some ways function as group therapy; this was after all a war ridden land, and though they were too young to have been soldiers, many of them had to have been affected in some way or other.

It was a great way for the more quiet students to open up, let people get to know more about them.

Hiiro Yui painted a puppy.

* * *

"Oh no…"

Only Duo heard the Asian utter that sorrowful note, and as he looked at the faces of his comrades as they tried to picture the 'Perfect Soldier' painting puppies, he couldn't help but wonder, 'What does Fei-chan know that we don't?'

* * *

Aurora was pleasantly surprised when Hiiro showed a remarkable talent for painting. He used precise, measured strokes, painting an emotional yet hauntingly lifelike scene of a dead puppy lying on a pile of rubble among the ruins of a city.

At the end of the week, the students projects were put on exhibition to the rest of the class, and were encouraged to share the importance of each scene with the rest of the pupils.

Hiiro's painting came last, as they worked their way alphabetically down the list.

The whole class was curious and excited at this point, as was Aurora, not because of the marvellous piece of work, which it was, but because finally they would know something about the mysterious boy that no one knew.

* * *

Holding up a lone disk, Relena looked sorrowfully at her audience. "This is a recording of what happened…"

The pilot's lean in, eager to hear what had happened to their missing comrade.

_Chattering and the screech of moving chairs can be heard in the background. A sweet voice speaks up:_

_"So, Hiiro, that's a beautiful painting you've done. Care to share it with the rest of class?"_

_A long silence follows, before a low slightly nasal voice speaks:_

_"No."_

_An awkward silence hangs in the air before the woman's voice tries again:_

_"Come on Hiiro, the rest of your classmates have shared their stories. It's your turn now."_

_Another pause._

_"That information is classified," replies the nasal voice, "If I told you, I would have to kill you…"_

_Nervous tittering can be heard in the background._

_"Classified information! You're not a soldier Hiiro," the woman's voice comments, the voice showing signs of irritation._

_"…"_

_"You'll fail your assignment if you refuse to cooperate, Hiiro."_

_"…"_

_Other voices and murmurs can be heard in the background as the class grows restless._

_"The puppy, Hiiro…"the voice states in a warning tone._

_"That is classifie-"_

_"YOU ARE NOT A SOLDIER HIIRO! THIS IS NOT CLASSIFIED INFORMATION! IF YOU REFUSE TO SPEAK YOU WILL FAIL THIS ASSIGNMENT! And anyway, if you were a soldier, you would have to obey my orders as I'm in command of this classroom. Now I'm tired of trying to wheedle information out of you, Hiiro, and I order you to tell us about the puppy, about yourself!"_

_A long tense pause._

_"Now!"_

_The nasal voice starts speaking, what little spark of emotion previously there is now gone:_

_"Specify."_

Duo flinched, recognising the 'Perfect Soldier's cold voice. He was furious.

_The woman's voice answers, slightly flustered:_

_"Tell us why the puppy had such a huge impact on you please, Hiiro."_

_"Year AC 194, August 23rd, subject specimen 01, codenamed Heero Yuy, was ordered to locate and destroy OZ-base 01365-B8. It was the first time after completion of specimen 01's enhancement programming that I was released. During recognisance, I encountered a civilian girl walking her puppy. She asked me if I was lost…"_

_Softening of voice, "I am always lost…"_

_"Infiltration of OZ-base 01365-B8 was successful. Hacking into the mainframe computer, as ordered, allowed access to specified schedules. While planting C4-explosives in the underground mobilesuit-factory security was compromised."_

_"C-compromised?" the faint voice of the teacher repeats._

_"Encounter with 6 hostile mechanics working late by order of Lady Une. Logical deduction showed confrontation would lead to gunfire, which would further compromise the mission. Alerting security was not acceptable. Stealth mode was recommended and the mechanics were disposed of silently, their necks snapped for minimum risk of discovery. Cover was still at risk of compromise, so a hasty escape was prioritised. At the specified time, the explosives were activated manually, pressing a remote button."_

_Horrified silence._

_"The mission was a failure. The explosives had been planted inaccurately in haste, and when the factory was destroyed it toppled over onto a civic building, creating a domino-effect. Three civilian buildings were completely annihilated. No survivors…" _

_"Among the ruins, while searching for survivors, I encountered a puppy. Her puppy. It's was dead… She was dead…"_

_"The subject is not supposed to be capable of experiencing emotions; Dr J deemed subject specimen 01's programming a failure; recommended alternative: 'Send in for reprogramming'."_

_"Who are you?" a trembling voice whispers._

_"Subject specimen 01, Codename Heero Yuy; Pilot 01, pilot of Gundam Wing and Gundam Wing Zero; Dr J's creation, the '__Per__fect Soldier'."_

_Stunned silence._

_The sound of silent scuffling and a sharp snap can be heard. _

_Pandemonium ensues, as the sound of pain and occasional grunts echoes across the room. _

_Slowly the sound of screaming voices dies out, as one by one the owners of said voices disappear, leaving a deathlike quiet, a sole pair of footsteps walking across the floor._

_"Hi-Hii—HIIRO!"_

_A soft nasal voice can be heard whispering, his voice full of childlike anguish, "I'm always lost… I failed…"_

Click…

* * *

When the boy she'd known as Hiiro Yui finished his tale, they all sat stunned staring at him for several moments in horrified disbelief.

During that time Hiiro walked past the teacher's desk, all of the pupils eyes fastened on him as he radiated a professional tense air, turning towards the door, locking it and them inside. He then proceeded to the closest student and snapped her neck.

For the next five minutes, Hiiro managed to take out over thirty students as they panicked, scrabbling for the locked door and windows.

The thing that scared Aurora more than the speed and efficiency she observed as Hiiro Yui mercilessly killed all her students, was the blank emptiness in his Prussian blue eyes as he did it. No emotion leaked through as another life was snuffed out, no acknowledgment was shown towards the few brave souls that tried in vain to protect their classmates; only a soft grunt as a fist struck by pure fluke a vulnerable spot, before he moved on to his next target, ignoring the pain.

He left her for last; she didn't know why.

As he came around the desk, she cowered in the corner, rolling into a protective ball as far away from him as possible.

"Hi-Hii- HIIRO!" she screamed, scrunching her eyes closed as his fist swept towards her face, her arms crossing in front in a feeble attempt for protection.

When nothing happened, she dared to open one eye.

He was standing, shoulders limp, staring at the massacre of dead students with uncomprehending innocence. When his eyes fell upon her, she whimpered, trembling with fear as she tried scooting further into the wall. He flinched…

"I'm always lost…" he softly murmured, eyes trailing down to his half open fists, shivering as he tightened them before looking up, "I failed…"

And he ran out the room, leaving her alive…

* * *

"…after he left the school, Miss Mandle resigned from the Academy and committed suicide," Relena finished, watching the faces of her stunned audience, "Nobody has seen Heero Yuy since."

Huge blue eyes pleaded with them:

"Please help me find him…"

****

****

**_Praeceps:_**

**_Yes, I was absolutely retched towards our beloved Hee-chan, or at least, it was meant to appear that way. I know this was nothing like how he is in real life (er…), but there is a purpose for it (that I'm not willing to divulge quite yet. We'll be seeing the '_****_Per_****_fect Soldier' later… The reason for his strange behaviour will be partially explained in the following two chapters…_**

**_As we'll be concentrating on Heero for a little while, Usagi's not scheduled for another three episodes. _**

**_His actions themselves… to be quite honest, I blame the teacher (she was young cocky and naïve, and she paid for it with her life). He was obviously unstable and she put unneeded pressure on him. I think she realised that and the guilt consumed her, making her commit suicide…_**

**_For wrong info, some of it's deliberate, to make it suit my story much better, the rest… hey, I'm human, okay- I'm a Sailor Moon guru(relatively speaking), Gundam Wing one._**

**_Am still thrilled by the amounts of reviews I've received, would it be too much to hope for the same kind of response with this chapter as well? I just loved all the insightful comments you people spouted and am now seriously curious to hear more!_**

**_One last note, I'd like to hear what you think of this fic (don't all authors, eh?), and point out beforehand that complaints about OOC-ness and pairings will be ignored. It's going to be a Usa/Heero pairing, but to be honest I thought that was a bit obvious from how I wrote the summary (oh well)…_**

**_Thank you for your attention._**

**_Oh! And any spelling mistakes can be blamed on incompetent English teachers, and/or my spell-check program, because I, myself, am PERFECT! ;-P (and when I say I am perfect, I MEAN perfect. My daddy said so ;-P )_**

**_If you have any questions about the story that you find unclear, I will do my best to answer them, as long as I deem them of no harm to my present plot-line. I really appreciate all your ramblings (not in any way meant as insulting, just clearing that up), and might use some for inspiration if permitted, but for now I have my own agenda. _**

**_-_**

**_Well that was all, for today at least, toodles! ;-D_**


	5. Part 4: Denial

Hey!

Ache, I'm late again!

On the positive note, This story is definitely going to be a trilogy. I'm really looking forward to writing this fic!

Now on with the show!

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon or Gundam Wing, and right now I'm too lazy to look up who actually does. I'm just stating that it's certainly not me.

-

**Part 4: Denial**

'This isn't fun anymore. I want to go home. This… this hits _far_ too close to home…'

* * *

When a person's mind is presented with proof that goes against its views of the world, it has two options: Either it can accept and move on with life; or they can ignore the evidence, whether consciously or not…

Considering how much healthier it is to follow the first option, it is amazing how many actually prefer the second.

Humans, whatever you may say about them, are _not_ as flexible as we would like to claim. It's the small things that we are agreeable with. Prove the world is round, and you will be lynched; and it doesn't matter that the people will agree with you decades from now, you'll still be dead…

The mind… simply can't handle big changes. It brakes down. System overload. Refuses to compute.

From there you either go insanely mad, dribbling drool down you chin, your spirit broken; or your back-up file is booted up, leaving you a functioning human being without the incriminating data that fried your hard drive to begin with.

This is called denial and it doesn't really solve anything, because the facts won't go away however hard we try to ignore them. And some day, it _will_ come back and spit in our face.

So in the end… we only had _one_ option…

* * *

Catatonic. What a weird word. Such a perceivably innocent word. It brought heartache to the pilots.

What does catatonic mean?

It means that when Duo found Heero, he began to cry. Duo doesn't smile anymore.

It means that when they went to visit, Heero didn't answer them. Heero doesn't answer anyone, not even Trowa.

It means that the blankness in his eyes, that Heero was so good at masking his 'feelings' with, is a permanent feature. Quatre feels nothing, only a vast emptiness.

It means that Wufei is constantly angry, because Heero gave up and fell, and that is injustice to his beliefs. It hurts…

Catatonic means that Heero is finally perfect. Heero doesn't feel anymore, because Heero is a living statue. A doll that doesn't see, doesn't speak, doesn't move and doesn't feel.

Perfection always did have a price, Doctor J.

* * *

April is a rainy season. It suited them just fine.

When the heavens are openly storming, so much like their sombre moods, it eases the tension. They can pretend that whatever gods are up there, Shinigami, Allah, Nataku, are weeping with them. For Heero.

Despite the fact that Quatre is a famous person, very few people actually come to his house. It's a very forbidding mansion, especially since that day Duo came stumbling home looking like the lost teenager he normally isn't.

Only the magunacs stay with them, and most of them keep their distance.

Even fewer come at night, to this sombre household, when it is storming outside and everybody is asleep.

Finding Heero on your doorstep would normally evoke surprise, even from Trowa; but finding Heero on your doorstep, when you _know_ that he is supposed to be a patient in the asylum, diagnosed with catatonia, an unresponsive statue, makes Rashid throw caution to the wind as he bellows for Master Quatre to wake up.

What they see is Heero standing on the doorstep, glaring at his feet, tense. He is wet, his brown chocolate hair plastered to his skin as water trickles down his face, and even through his thick knitted jumper, that they have no idea where he got it from, they can see Heero's unease with the situation, muscles tense, ready to flee.

There's a hush as the four pilots stare at their comrade, unbelieving, not speaking for fear that this is all a dream.

Then those familiar steely blue eyes lift up to meet them, that angry glare from the 'Perfect Soldier' that they'd missed _so_ _much_, and that nasal voice, slightly hoarse from disuse, speaks:

"You were looking for me…"

* * *

They never questioned how or why Heero came back to them. As the saying goes: 'Don't look a gift horse in the mouth.'

And they were so happy. Duo was smiling, Trowa was speaking more, Quatre's heart was once again filled, and Wufei stopped doing his kata's so intensely. Everything was just like before, only with Heero.

Heero… was just like before. Maybe wearing different clothes, forsaking his tank top and spandex for thicker more covering clothing, but still as quiet, stoic and intense as before. He spoke little, preferring to remain a little closed off from them, watching them from a distance when he wasn't typing on his laptop that they had so eagerly provided him with.

They all flocked around him, basking in the glow that was Heero, wanting to make him feel like part of the group. They were a team, and they'd been missing their comrade for _too_ long. That would _not_ happen again.

Duo, when he wasn't being mischievous, would drag him out to play basketball, and Heero would usually win.

Trowa would perform for the others or sit quietly besides him, just enjoying the silence.

Quatre would make his usual idle chitchat, trying to make sure everybody was happy.

Wufei would talk politics or philosophy when he wasn't trying to coax Heero into sparring with him.

They were all so busy smiling, trying to make him feel like he fit in, making sure he wouldn't want to leave, that they didn't notice the little things.

The screaming was just nightmares, they all had them. And that Heero was so reluctant to play with them, that was because he was trained that way, he was a loner. Heero was acting normal, like he had always done. Normal.

And Heero let them believe that.

So when Duo wanted to race to the basketball court that one time they were all playing, Heero ran with him.

They all knew he ran faster, they all knew he would win, because he was better than them, he was perfect, but it was fun… It was acting like boys, and they were boys.

So when Heero stopped running and looked back at them, fear flashing in his eyes, they didn't want to believe it.

And then he crumpled and there was blood flowing from his nose…

* * *

It must have been because Heero wasn't eating properly.

When they put him to bed and called the doctor, they discovered just how thin Heero was under those clothes.

There was no skeletal resemblance, but the muscles that separated Heero from slim to lithe were gone. His skin was paler than they had thought, and in his comatose sleep he looked _frail_.

Heero wasn't frail!

The doctor said there was nothing wrong with him.

* * *

Heero woke up the very next day.

But something was different.

Maybe he was tired of putting up an illusion for them.

His eyes were still blank, not a single emotion escaping them. He still wore the concealing clothing, though he knew they had seen. He was quiet, but he still spoke to them when they asked.

But he moved less and less. Slowly he stopped participating.

He didn't play basketball anymore with Duo. He simply shook his head when Wufei wanted to spar. The laptop gathered dust in his room.

He simply watched them. Watched them try to ignore the signs.

They did notice. It's hard not to. When a person that before was a powerhouse of muscles and energy slowly becomes more tired, low on energy, sleeping…

But Heero didn't tell them what was wrong. Was something wrong? What was happening? Why?

* * *

They were all sitting in the living room. They were watching cartoons, one of Duo's. They'd been spending a lot of time in this room lately. To be with Heero. They were worried…

Duo was looking despairingly at the others, arm wrapped around Heero on the couch, fingers running through his hair. Heero _never_ let him do that. It went against his training.

But Heero was asleep yet again, leaning against the American. He looked so much smaller than the other, though everybody knew that they were roughly the same height.

"I don't know what to do anymore," he sighed, stroking the sleeping teen. The cartoons weren't funny anymore.

"Injustice…" There wasn't any amount of anger in that statement, only tired helplessness.

"He won't tell us," Quatre murmured, unhappy, staring morosely at the floor.

Trowa only looked out the window. There was nothing to say.

"Oh Hee-chan, what's wrong with you?" Duo whispered to the sleeping teen, oblivious of their worry.

"Don't you know, Duo-chan…?"

The voice startled them, not only because Heero was talking in his sleep, but because they'd heard that childish tone before, the one time they had heard his voice full of anguished emotion.

"…I'm dying…"

****

****

**_Praeceps:_**

**_Well, this chapter could have been better, but I had a lot of trouble writing it. I made about five false starts (each of about 1000 words) trying different angles that just wouldn't work out. PLUSS, I had a very disturbing experience that left me a bit to uneasy and weirded out to write properly. So… this is as good as it gets. I wash my hands of it._**

**_I think… I think that the next chapter will be pure Gundam as well, we might see Usagi at the end... if not then, then in the chapter after that._**

**_Heero is… going to make a good comeback next chapterish, with lots of goody-goody raging anger (at who? Not gonna tell ;-P), and we will find out partly why he's acting so… strangely._**

**_And I'm really sorry that this chapter's so much shorter than they others, and that there won't be any more updates for roundabout three weeks, seeing as I'll be in Florida, Disneyworld, on holiday with me dad! Whoohoo!_**

**_For wrong info, some of it's deliberate, to make it suit my story much better, the rest… hey, I'm human, okay- I'm a Sailor Moon guru(relatively speaking), Gundam Wing one._**

**_Am still thrilled by the amounts of reviews I've received, would it be too much to hope for the same kind of response with this chapter as well? I just loved all the insightful comments you people spouted and am now seriously curious to hear more!_**

**_One last note, I'd like to hear what you think of this fic (don't all authors, eh?), and point out beforehand that complaints about OOC-ness and pairings will be ignored. It's going to be a Usa/Heero pairing, but to be honest I thought that was a bit obvious from how I wrote the summary (oh well)…_**

**_Thank you for your attention._**

**_Oh! And any spelling mistakes can be blamed on incompetent English teachers, and/or my spell-check program, because I, myself, am PERFECT! ;-P (and when I say I am perfect, I MEAN perfect. My daddy said so ;-P )_**

**_If you have any questions about the story that you find unclear, I will do my best to answer them, as long as I deem them of no harm to my present plot-line. I really appreciate all your ramblings (not in any way meant as insulting, just clearing that up), and might use some for inspiration if permitted, but for now I have my own agenda. _**

**_-_**

**_Well that was all, for today at least, toodles! ;-D_**


	6. Part 5: Anger

I am Back!

Warning! Some of this chapter can come off as very disturbing, it was meant to be disturbing as that is Heero's intention! More in the author-notes!

Loved the vacation, am now back. Phooey.

Now on with the show!

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon or Gundam Wing, and right now I'm too lazy to look up who actually does. I'm just stating that it's certainly not me.

**Part 5: Anger**

_Don't you know, Duo-chan? I'm dying…'_

* * *

Acceptance. So small a word; so simple a phrase; so very _hard_ to _do_.

The path to acceptance is fraught with peril. Most never make it; if you are caught in denial for too long, you might not recover. You simply started too late.

Now, you can ignore a problem, but that doesn't mean that it isn't there anymore. It will only get worse as time goes by.

But denial can only take you _so_ far…

What do you do when the illusion ends?

* * *

The Preventers Headquarters is a _BIG_ building. It should be, it houses entire armies at times.

Sally's office is on the second floor. Close enough to the ground for easy evacuation. The Preventers may be new, but they're _not_ naïve. They can't afford to be. There are far too many out there from the wars, _still_ holding a grudge…

"…don't know what's wrong, Wufei. All the tests came back negative." The woman speaking is clearly upset.

"Injustice! Something is _wrong_, onna; Yuy said so himself." Do you really need to be told who the angry Chinese teen is?

"And I agree with you; something is defiantly wrong, I've seen him myself. _But_…" the blond sighs, brushing unkempt hair that has come undone from its custom braids away from her eyes. Sally has had too many late nights since the four ex-pilots practically kidnapped her from her apartment. _The screaming…_

"…but Wufei," tremble; "I have done CAT-scans, X-rays, blood tests and physicals; I've checked him for every single decease or ailment known to man. They've all come back _negative_. The results all state that Heero is one of the healthiest boys walking this planet. I-…" pulls at her hair, "_Tell_ me what to _do_, Wufei! I- I've run out of tests and the medicine is _not_ working; Heero's still fading…" Despairingly: "What more can I do?"

Four pilots and a princess watch a friend and doctor brake down on the floor. They are _all_ tired, spending their nights listening to screams of agony, knowing there is nothing they can do to sooth the pain; hurting when those blank eyes look upon them. He will not open, even during his few waking hours; keeping his pain inside, hidden. Heero always _was_ one for solitude. Alone in a crowd. Till the bitter end.

"Heero." The screen the sad girl is focused on shows a pale young Asian teen. He's sleeping. Peacefully for once.

Before, Heero always frowned in his sleep, his mouth a hard thin line. The very image of the hardened warrior that he is, guarding himself even on a subconscious level.

Now… now his sleep reveals his darkest secrets: A young child that could never grow up, lost in a nightmare of a world he could not possibly comprehend. He looks innocent. Soft. All the things that Heero is not supposed to be. Relena must have known that.

Relena. The poor girl. She hasn't been able to see him since he left her in January. Heero goes into unexplainable convulses the moment she steps into proximity and Heero won't tell them why.

She is forced to remain outside, watching the digital image of her crush slowly deteriorate on screen without being able to physically comfort him.

"Only Heero can tell us what's wrong," Quatre sighs. His blue green eyes have lost their happy lustre; there are _far_ too many sad emotions here now.

Shinigami snorts. "Heero won't tell us anything. He _wants_ to _die_ alone." And Duo can't understand that. He's already lost Solo to the plague; now he is loosing another. And this time there _is no_ medicine to steal…

"He will for Relena's sake," the blond states grimly, walking towards the door before looking back at them with a soft smile, "He fought _too_ _hard_ to let the peace crumble."

* * *

Heero _did_ agree to come to Sally's office. Surprisingly easy. He's now sitting on the examinations table wearing only a skin toned hospital gown, riffling through Sally's papers.

"These are the results from all the tests I did on you earlier, Heero. As you can see, they all came back negative."

Slight nod as he continues to skim through the readouts.

"Do you know what we're doing wrong?"

Slight hesitation before he gives a small nod again.

Speaking to Heero is like pulling teeth, having to coerce him into answering unless you try the commanding route. If he doesn't want to speak he will simply _stare_ at you with those big steely eyes of his. It's damned unnerving.

And then, out of the blue he will speak:

"You're not looking close enough," a small pause while he seems to be battling in his mind. This must be really big if they can actually read his hesitancy, setting the pilots on edge leaning forward as he speaks again:

"And... you're not looking at the big picture."

Philosophical hints. Heero would go for that, and apparently that is all he is willing to divulge. No matter, Trowa is also good at this kind of crap so they leave the pondering to him.

"Did we run a DNA-scan, Sally?"

The blond starts typing furiously on her computer, fingers racing across the keyboard, bringing up all her notes on screen. Searching through them, she answers, "No. The computer checked automatically the strands from his blood samples for any genetic diseases, but…" click, click, "we didn't…" click, "actually look at-"

The file opens.

"Oh My _God_!"

Sally stares at the computer screen, a hand coming up to cover her mouth in shock.

Trowa, who has been standing next to her leaning over her seat, blinks, single eye quite visibly widening.

"Onna, put it on the big screen!" an edgy voice grinds out. Somebody doesn't like being left out of the loop.

Trowa's hand moves over the mouse slowly. Click.

"Oh Allah!" "Nataku!"

Duo pretty much sums it up:

"Shit Yuy! What the fuck did J _do_ to you!"

On screen they see two 3D-images. One is a clip of Heero's DNA, it looks like the standard double helix; but the other…

…the other…

Oh my.

The DNA-strands only unravels when its duplicating itself, the rest of the time it remains dormant, wrapped inside protecting proteins. At these times they're more commonly known as chromosomes.

Humans, as a species, are generally born with a set of 23 pairs of chromosomes. That makes it a total of 46 chromosomes.

It _is_ rare that people are born carrying more than the standard amount of chromosomes. Most foetuses don't survive such abnormalities, the conflict of such delicate information resulting in instant abortion. People with Downs Syndrome are an example of the ones that survive.

Sally knows this. Most of the pilots might not, chemistry and physics being more their forte, but even they know enough standard biology to notice the unusual amount of chromosomes flitting across the screen.

"I-it's not possible. He-he shouldn't even exist; there must be close to a hundred chromosomes up there…" the awe in her voice isn't hard to miss, this must be like Disneyland for her.

"94," agrees Duo-the-braided-calculator, "46 pairs revolving around the two funky ones."

"T-th-the odds of… and-and when you take into account what could go wrong… They must be _astronomical_!" Sally is obviously completely blown away, going into full scientist mode.

"How did J _do_ that!" she points to the computer screen. "Heero has effectively _two_ sets of 'human' chromosomes, which _should_ be _impossible_ of itself, orbiting around an unidentified pair," taps at the pair for emphasis, "which seem to be acting as an anchor, keeping the rest stabilized."

Waves a hand casually across the rest, she takes a deep breath, "The rest are obviously following the human pattern, only twice the numbers."

Shakes her head to clear it before rambling on, "In theory, Heero should be a Fully Functional _Human_ being; his genetical makeup is simply, generally speaking, more intricate, detailed… _advanced_ than yours."

"So…" Duo tilts his head, his nose scrunching up, "what does that mean, exactly?"

Spreading her hands out in an open gesture, she shrugs helplessly, "Truthfully…? It means that I have no way on earth of knowing Heero's condition, health wise; because though Heero is undeniably human, he is an unique human, and everything we learnt in biology class just got _tossed out the window_."

"And the only one who could possibly have any knowledge pertaining to today, who's been keeping record of Heero for _years_, is dead," the muted teen observes

"Doctor J…" Quatre breathes, understanding lighting his eyes.

"Yes," Trowa agrees, "…and Heero…"

And logically speaking, Heero _should_ know all that J recorded on him; he would have to know his vital statistics and etceteras to function during the wars.

They all turn to him.

The '_he'_ in question is sitting motionless on the table, staring into space. It reminds them eerily of that vapid glaze festering his eyes from when he was catatonic, but at the slight shift of the crowds attention and he snaps out of it.

When the hint of awareness has leeched back into those frosty eyes of his, not that he was ever _un_aware, Sally proceeds with her interrogation.

"What are your vital signs? Physical and mental capabilities? Health and fitness statistics? Are they similar to us regular humans, Heero?"

A second goes by before he frowns, uttering a curt "No."

"He can bend steel with his hands," pipes the American, grinning proudly at his stoic friend.

"Uh huh," Sally jots down on a form, smiling sweetly as she looks up again, "Could you continue Heero? Give a visual demonstration where possible perhaps?"

An icy glare is sent her way, but the 'soldier' complies, his stance straightening as he starts reciting personal statistics in the only way he knows.

"… parameters… enhanced senses… higher resistances… -ntrol of repertory syst-… limited cardiac… reflexes…" 'blah, blah, blah, blah, blah…'

Listening to that emotionless drone is giving Duo a headache, both by the way Heero keeps referring to himself as the 'subject specimen 01', which is mildly disturbing, and all the horribly stiff technical terms that go straight over his head. Not only is it unhealthy to think of oneself as 'subject specimen 01', but if Heero is to fall under human rights… well, it might be an idea to actually act like a human. Time to remove that stick up his '_enhanced'_ inhuman ass.

"Hey Hee-man, lighten up," the exasperated boy grins slapping the brunette on the back, "We can't all be J's 'Perfect Soldiers'. Speak English, man!"

Maybe it was the way it was worded; maybe it was the fact that Heero _is_ sick and severely unbalanced; maybe it was because Duo had forgotten that for once, Heero had let himself open, vulnerable to them.

Instead of _ignoring_ _him_, or simply pulling the gun out as a silent threat for him to _shut_ _up_, the room goes infinitesimally colder. Hidden malice and billowing rage wash against their skin as they all instinctively tense, weary eyes settling on the maybe not so emotionless soldier.

He is staring at them. Glaring at Duo. He is tense. He is _in_tense. He does Not. Look. Right. It is scaring them. Shit.

And then, it is all gone. Switched off. Like they imagined it, made up that cold hungry savage spark that was burning with unholy glee in the flickering depths of his soul. Quatre thought he was going to have a heart attack.

But all is not right. The lone figure is still gazing at them, emotions blocked, fingers fisted as if to prevent himself from something he _really_ shouldn't do.

This is not the 'Perfect Soldier'. This is not _Heero_ _Yuy_.

_This_ is the person that slaughtered the mobile suits and laughed while doing it. And he is smiling.

"English," the Japanese brunette purrs, rolling his neck and shoulders, cracking his joints, feral smile upon his face, "I can do that."

The predatory gaze he sends Duo is not only disconcerting, it is downright _freaking_ _them_ _out_, as he moves towards the frozen teen. And the boy is not just _walking_, he is _gliding_.

"Are you _afraid_ of me, Duo-chan?" the boy breathes into Duo's ear, circling him, pushing into his personal space dominatingly.

"You know, I can hear your heartbeat," he whispers, a slim corded arm coming to rest against the braided teens chest; warm. His smirk grows as he feels him flinch before his eyes narrow calculatingly, pressing on, fingers tapping the rhythm of the beat against his chest, "I can hear all your hearts beating. They're racing…"

A small insincere laugh escapes his lips, his eyes twinkling metallically as he rests his chin on the Americans shoulder, standing flush behind him watching the others. "Mmm, you smell nice," he purrs, sounding like a cat basking in the sun as he plays with the rigid teens braid.

"You know," he opens a lazy eye, watching them all, "that was the one thing J didn't train me in…" At their confused gazes he taps his nose "Smell" before grinning nastily, "It made him uncomfortable…"

_Heero_ made _Doctor J_ uncomfortable?

"_Too_ _inhuman_…" he whispers into Duo's skin, tightening his hold as the teen instinctively shivers at the intimate contact.

Straightening, without loosening his hold on the American rogue, he faces the others. The tenseness on their features and the taughtness of their muscles, ready to spring at a moments notice, is casually disregarded as he quirks an eyebrow at them, seemingly ignorant of their discomfort.

"What?" he hums, questioningly, caressing his hostages arms, up and down, up and down, "Duo is always insisting on touching…" A wicked gleam is aimed at Duo, though his voice remains unquestioningly innocent, "Is this enough touching, Duo-_chan_?"

He snorts in disdain at the madly nodding pilot before letting go, making Duo crumble to the ground in surprise, going through a complete transformation. "Hmph. You really did open '_Pandora's_ _Box_'," he sneers, staring down at the floundering boy with contempt. Crouching down, he asks mockingly, "What's the matter, Duo-_CHAN_? Not loose enough for you?"

"What? Who are you?" the American gapes, crawling on his back in an attempt to get away.

An unholy smile graces the Asian boy's face as he stalks closer, bullying the frightened teen into submission as he crouches closer, face to face, voice rising with rage at each point. "Don't you know, Maxwell? I am faster than you, stronger than you, smarter than you. I feel no pain, I heal more rapidly than you. I need less air, less heat, less fuel. What am I? I'm your WORST FUCKING NIGHTMARE COME TO LIFE!"

A great creak can be heard as the steel table Heero is leaning on, towering over Duo, is bent under the pressure the emotional teens fingers are subjecting it to, giving Sally her wanted demonstration of strength.

"Don't you know who I am, Duo?" Heero's intense voice asks, back to its regular quiet monotone filled with belligerent viciousness, of reigned in violence, that refuses to be ignored, "I am…"

… Heero Yuy…

…subject specimen 01…

…a weapon…

…_not_ human…

…which one is the right one?

"Why don't you say it, Yuy?" Quatre shivers at the bitter resentment in Wufei's voice. Wufei has always looked up to Heero in some ways. Being one to take great pride in his martial arts and its codes; protecting the weak, justice… _This_ is not justice. And for it to be _Heero_ braking it, rubbing it in, their faults… _injustice_.

"All those skills you listed… combined they make a great warrior," Trowa observes, standing seemingly calm in the eye of the storm, though he _is_ inconspicuously protecting Sally, edging in front of her.

"J's '_Per__fect_ _Soldier_'," Duo murmurs dejectedly, staring lost at the floor he is sitting on. Unnoticed, said soldier flinches at the nickname.

"So why don't you _say_ _it_?" the Chinese grinds out, teeth clenched, "Say that you're better than us. Say what you've wanted to. _Say_ that you're _Per__fect_!" And with that, he takes a step forward, a silent threat against harm, shoulders tensed for a possible fight.

But Heero doesn't fight. He steps back. And all of them suddenly become aware of the fact that the 'Perfect Soldier' is trembling. Quite badly. His hands are holding around his waist, and his head is bowed, shadows covering his eyes… And that voice… that horrible quiet childish vulnerable nasal voice that Duo hates _so_ _much_ speaks again:

"Doctor J wanted a perfect soldier and he was given one. The truth is I _am_ a perfect soldier; as perfect as can ever be…"

And then he raises his head, for all to see.

His eyes are dark as ever and still set in that infernal frown of his, but his eyes are shining, a glittery watery sheen that they have never seen before. Heero is crying; and from his lips runs a crimson line.

"…But perfection is flawed. The world does not stand still, it's constantly changing. What was once perfect is now an inconvenience. I was made perfect and I've served my purpose… _Now_ I am Obsolete."

As the pilots eyes widen and Quatre closes his eyes shaking his head, the grownup child continues to speak his truth:

"The bottom line is I was _designed_ to die," hand coming up to rest by his heart as hard eyes stare them down, "I felt the very moment when peace was assured and I began to die."

Eyes slightly glazing as he looks into a distant memory, he murmurs lightly, "I can _feel_ it _even_ now…" And as he speaks a new river mingles with the first, running from his nose.

Snapping back to the present he glares at the five, the blood adding to the paleness of his skin and the sharpness of his eyes, "You opened the box, now deal with the contents: Perfection always has a price, and for that blessed perfection I am _doomed_ to _die_."

"There is your justice, Wufei," he spits out, making the Chinese flinch with the anger directed at him, "I will never be able to make amends for the deaths I've caused. I will never know peace. I'm on a one-way trip to Hell for reasons I had no choice in."

"'Perfect Soldier' indeed," he sneers, "Tick tock, Wufei. Remind me how very different from you I am; how little time I have left…"

A half laughter escapes his lips, "Heh. Dead man walking." And the office of Preventer Sally gains a hole in the wall as Heero redemonstrates his immeasurable strength.

As Heero visibly struggles to collect himself, a hand grabs him, both steadying and preventing the sick boy from fleeing. Sad violet orbs meet angry blue as the Japanese struggles to brake loose, howling "LET ME LEAVE, I'VE _DONE_ WHAT YOU _ASKED_ FOR! _LET ME DIE IN PEACE_!"

"But why do you have to die, Heero?" It must be a mental thing… Nobody could possibly be as cruel as to program certain death.

Slapping the teenagers hand away, Heero points to the screen, seething, "Don't you get it, Duo? That is _ME_!"

"We may be family, the same species, but I am on a completely different level than you, a different race."

"Do you _know_ what would _happen_ were I allowed to live? The same thing that happened to Australia when rabbits were introduced. It was an _ecological_ _disaster_!"

"My offspring would be genetically superior to you, rapidly replacing you and dominating the Earth where you once ruled. Survival of the fittest…" he emits a sound of frustration at Duo's blank look.

"You _can't_ compete with us, your _only_ advantage is numbers…"

A hand wipes impatiently at the blood, smearing it across his face, while serious eyes set in a frown pierce them, "Do you _truly_ _believe_ that that is _enough_ against _me_?"

What can they say? Saying 'yes' would be a lie and Heero would know, knows that now; and yet… to say 'no'… it would be admitting that it's alright that Heero has to die. And it _isn't_.

"In the end I was meant to be a tool, there ISNO moral dilemma here. I am NOT a person, I have NO future. What I am is the 'One and Only', a child of fate, and I will always be sacrificed. Body and soul."

No…

"I fought for _Peace_…" closing his eyes and breathing it in, he murmurs "Now, it's much easier to die…" He smiles ironically at them, head cocked, as metallic blue clashes with aquamarine green, scenes from Heero's self-destructions flashing across their minds. The face of the 'Perfect Soldier' is back, but the illusion is shattered… Because they _know_ now…

"A wise person once said: It's when a warrior gains the ability to _loose_ everything, that they become the _ultimate_ warrior, the 'Perfect Soldier' that legends said possessed the ability to save everything," Wufei recites, a nauseating comprehension entering his eyes as he realises what J's intentions were, what all martial artists have strived for without knowing, understanding.

'But what about you, Heero? Do you truly _believe_ that? Do you feel _NOTHING_?'

Pupils widen as two eyes narrow, a cunning smile flashing across bloodstained lips. The room turns soundless for two, the world tilting on its axis as a vacuum descends, muffling all senses with its roaring silence.

A brief afterimage of a boy with chocolate hair stumbling across the room, clutching his head, bent over, screaming '_GET OUT OF MY HEAD!_' as he claws at it, before twin burning pyres of blackest blue, spiked with darkest crimson, takes its place, laughing mockingly at the blond observer.

'A gift to you…' and then everything goes dark and there is colour _everywhere_.

* * *

Echoes can be heard as Heero walks down the stairs, away from the office. He will be long gone before they reach the door, but for now _that_ doesn't matter because Quatre has collapsed, screaming and crying, clutching at his heart. Sally is rushing towards him this very instant.

It's only a half hour later that they will realise what has happened, what the blond is moaning, and what a BIG mistake they made, but Heero wanted it this way.

On the floor lies Quatre, moaning:

"I am always lost… until the day I can die."

'It's easier to die now…'

****

****

**_Praeceps:_**

**_Yes, I am wonderful. Especially since I didn't cut this chapter in half considering its length!(And I can't believe I spent every free minute of my holiday writing on this. On paper! By hand! No Computers!)_**

**_This chapter is about anger. Who's? (Casts sideways glance at cast.) Pick a number, Any number! Well, er, mostly Heero's actually. (Damn that was fun writing, even if it scared the hell out of Duo and Quatre.) Why Heero was acting this way is debatable… (if you have an opinion, let's hear it!) but first of all: He's sick, unstable… Another is that this was his way of finally giving them what they wanted (and he sure did go to the extreme!) Duo wanted Heero to loosen up (for the n-th time), reading between the lines: act more like him. Psychotic Heero anyone? While Quatre, as nice as he may be, continues to monitor them occasionally with his empathy. Quatre wanted feeling, he got feelings. So many that he went into overload. snicker_**

**_The next question to think about is this: How much of what Heero said was true?_**

**_If you look closely, Heero is actually quite vague about his abilities… he says he's enhanced, better, but how much? (me to know, you to maybe find out) But I am stating here! that this is NOT a trilogy about superhuman people on power trips! If I am accused of that I'll get pissed off! True, they are different, but this is difference is meant more to explain WHY things are happening as they are, why they react as they do etc. This'll actually remain mostly in the background._**

**_Each of my main characters have had their own little introduction now, we know what's happened in their pasts… now they get to meet!_**

**_I'm a bit unsure whether I'm supposed to raise the rating on this story. I don't think it'll get MUCH worse than this, but I'm biased… So… a little help, please?_**

**_I am not a medical or biology-expert. Some of it I remember from class, some of it I asked my dad (science person)about. Like for example Heero's DNA. I asked my dad about _****_Per_****_fect Humans and the Fifth Element's film theory (cool film), and would function. Of the choices I was given, I liked the one I chose best (naturally). Sally does state how unlikely of this actually successfully happening!_**

**_The _****_Australia_****_ comparison?_****_ Memory (a very decrypt one). And come on, it fit too well! Pun and all (Rabbits, Usagi…)._**

**_Wufei's quote?_****_ An expansion/rewrite of what Sailor Cosmos says close to the end…(I liked it, so sue me (please don't take that seriously))_**

**_Random rambling: Do I get double the amount of reviews since this chapter was double the length?_**

**_For wrong info, some of it's deliberate, to make it suit my story much better, the rest… hey, I'm human, okay- I'm a Sailor Moon guru(relatively speaking), not a Gundam Wing one._**

**_Am still thrilled by the amounts of reviews I've received, would it be too much to hope for the same kind of response with this chapter as well? I just loved all the insightful comments you people spouted and am now seriously curious to hear more!_**

**_One last note, I'd like to hear what you think of this fic (don't all authors, eh?), and point out beforehand that complaints about OOC-ness and pairings will be ignored. It's going to be a Usa/Heero pairing, but to be honest I thought that was a bit obvious from how I wrote the summary (oh well)…_**

**_Thank you for your attention._**

**_Oh! And any spelling mistakes can be blamed on incompetent English teachers, and/or my spell-check program, because I, myself, am PERFECT! ;-P (and when I say I am perfect, I MEAN perfect. My daddy said so ;-P )_**

**_If you have any questions about the story that you find unclear, I will do my best to answer them, as long as I deem them of no harm to my present plot-line. I really appreciate all your ramblings (not in any way meant as insulting, just clearing that up), and might use some for inspiration if permitted, but for now I have my own agenda. _**

**_-_**

**_Well that was all, for today at least, toodles! ;-D_**


	7. Part 6: Cry

Hey, long time no see!

Warning! This chapter revolves a lot around death and thoughts of suicide.

Now on with the show!

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon or Gundam Wing, and right now I'm too lazy to look up who actually does. I'm just stating that it's certainly not me.

**Part 6: Cry**

It _would_ be raining on the day I left them. Maybe it's to suit the mood I'm in. Maybe it's the heavens showing a spec of remorse at what's been done to me. Maybe it is crying for me, because I can_not_. Maybe it's a pure damned fluke.

It was not a very nice thing what I did to them, my friends; but then, I have never been _nice_. It was necessary. Would they have let me go otherwise? No.

I do find it ironic that _this_ is where I ended up however. This is a place you would expect to find Duo, not me. But it's quiet. So quiet.

The wind is blowing. The leaves are rustling. The grass is fresh from all the spring rain. And though the sky is dark and clouded, it is a quiet rain that falls. You hardly notice all the graves surrounding me, pale shadows in the night. The only company I have this night is faded statues of forgotten saints. Duo's saints.

For seventeen years I have struggled to reach here; my purpose being my damnation, my only hope of salvation found in death. And what a pathetic death it would be. I have clawed towards this one goal of mine with the same insane determination that I've shown on my missions; yet where my missions have met with completion, the completion that my perfection craves, demands with carnage hunger; I have failed with utter misery at mortality, forever the indestructible soldier.

If Wufei's Nataku exists somewhere up there, I don't know whether I should congratulate her on her sadistically inventive distribution of heavenly justice, '_her_' being because the Goddess of Justice has always been depicted as a female, a certain irony I'm sure Wufei has not missed; or snarl at the fact that that means that some sentient being has _deliberately_ been doing this to me, condemned me from birth to a life that is not mine. An artificial life.

That's not a nice thought. Were I any less than what I am, I would be insane. At this point it is still debatable.

Since I was a young boy, I have always had an ingrained sense of being different. Most would attribute it to the fact that I have no memory prior to Odin Lowe, and the years spent with him were not in any ways a lifestyle meant for children; or the alleged rumour of J tinkering a bit _too_ _much_ with my genetic codes. J's training may've had a hand in how I am _now_, but the truth is that I have always been different. It was this difference that attracted him to me.

J had of course been looking for a suitable child for his experimental training regiment for some time, and when Odin died the opportunity of acquiring a pretrained child proved too tempting. Not only would I be physically and mentally stronger ­-something I still am and have no problem acknowledging- theorized to be caused by my abnormal upbringing and earlier profession, but I would come with a predate knowledge of assorted weaponry, skills within espionage and infiltration, and the cold-blooded mentality of any seasoned assassin, born of pure practicality and disregard of feelings, survival skills that are essential in this line of work if you wish to preserve your sanity, traits needed to survive J's program.

My thought patterns are different from others of my species. My body, my strength, my constitution, all this can be ignored, but the brainwaves do not lie. I am too well structured, too complex, too unique to have been an accident. I am different. I had a purpose. Doctor J could not ignore me.

I am a creature of logic. I deal in facts. What little I may have once possessed of emotions is gone, obliterated from my mind by a scientist on a quest. I am not as naïve as to claim I'm emotionless, I know they're there. But what good are emotions when you cannot _express_ them? When you don't _understand_ them? When you cannot _act_ on them? To all the world they might as well not exist. They are something lost in my mind, locked away in a cage of training and there they will remain with only me to guard them. And I guard them fiercely. As Quatre now knows.

I do not take kindly to trespassers in my mind. My sanctuary. The one place where I can be myself, that I can call my own…

My spirit is order, my psyche is order, and everything about me revolves tightly around control. How could it not be? You have to have control to have order. Yet I am NOT in control, am I? I never have been. I never will be.

What reverence do I have to life when I have none. I have no freedom. My life is numb. This order that I embody is caging. Trapped in a living weapon for a body, with a soul I have no claim to as my own. I have no control over my life.

I remember the horror in the pilots eyes as they saw me self-destruct that first time. I remember the sadness when Sally and the pilots discovered how cheap my life really is. I remember the plea in my victims eyes as I took their lives when they could not take my own. I remember the sorrow in Duo's voice when he found me rotting away in that asylum. I remember… Relena's tears. The many tears they've shed for me.

I don't want them to be sad for me. I didn't want them to know that the only thing I've ever longed for is death. I can't take being this 'Perfect Soldier' when my body is dying, when my spirit is breaking apart, and everything in my life has been a desperate attempt of committing suicide in hope of escaping my inevitable destiny. Humans are not meant to live this way. I can not hope to live this way. But then… I was never meant to.

I tried to live like them after the war, to keep the knowledge of my coming fate from them. For Relena's sake I tried to live… but my body was beginning to fall apart even then. It was all an illusion, this borrowed life. And thirty-five students paid for that borrowed time with their lives.

I came to them that night because seeing me holed up in my voluntary prison broke their hearts. They could not let me be, leave me to die as I should have in that cell. It's not in their nature, that's why they won the war…

They are needed in this world, and I cannot let this break them. My body will continue to die, nothing can stop that, but seeing me slowly disintegrate, letting them spend their final moments with me, maybe that will put them at peace…

But the truth that they cannot understand, that they will never comprehend, that they can never accept is that I _want_ _to_ _die_. Now that I've been freed from my purpose, all I have left is to die, to end this tormented agony. The fates will not stop me this time. Now, it is only the '_how'_ and the '_when'_ I control…

Looking at the gun I am holding now, I can't help but smile. Minimally. I wonder if Duo has realised that I pickpocketed him yet?

This is the only measure of control I have anymore. How I die…

How pitiful.

* * *

Dimensions have always been a thing of mystery. Do they exist? How many are there? What differs from our own home dimension that we love so much?

Many believe that the dimensions are unlimited; a new one is formed each time a decision is made. A million worlds of _what_ _if's_… What if it wasn't raining? What if I didn't say no to that boy last week? What if Hitler hadn't risen to power?

In one dimension the split happened much earlier than that. What if the Lunarian's hadn't come to our solar system? What if they were never there to teach us magic? What if Serenity was never there to make Beryl jealous? What if Earth never fell into the dark ages because there never was a war, never was a monster, never was a tragedy? What if humans didn't have to start all over again?

Surprisingly little is different, and yet surprisingly much has changed.

The countries are still where they used to be, though some have other names. The worlds technology is similar, if not identical, though they are further along. They've had more time…

They still fight wars, and people still suffer. But people are also at peace. People also live in harmony after a long hard war. People are as people have always been. Prosperous.

And in a new world that thought brings one comfort. Because Earth will always be _Home_.

* * *

It's a strange and scary place when you don't know where you are, only that you can never go back.

I feel numb…

At this point I'm wondering whether Setsuna left me here on purpose. Some kind of sublime message? A silent accusation? Nice.

I am in a new world, on a new Earth. A different Earth. Here there are no Senshi. There is no magic. And everything is foreign.

I shiver. How can I not?

Foreign…

I am alone on a foreign planet, in a deserted graveyard with no other people in it except for looming statues of people I've never heard of.

I am wet. I am cold. I am scared, and I am all alone. Looking back at that list, I might as well have added hungry, but at this point I have lost my appetite. Who wants to eat in a situation like this?

What meagre clothes I've been provided with were not meant for this kind of weather. The fact that it is storming and looks like it might break out into thunder at any time means it takes precious few seconds for the material of my jeans and shirt to soak up the rain. They are obviously not waterproof.

How am I supposed to see the positive side of being left on my own, when this is the kind of desolated place I get dumped in! I can't see any people, hell I can't see, period, in _this_ weather, and even if I did find someone… what are the odds of them speaking Japanese!

I want my mother. I want my musume. I want… I want my freaking teddy bear if it would offer me some comfort. Although I can just imagine the impression I would make upon the inhabitants of this world should I show up as a seventeen year old cuddling plush toys.

It's times like these that I seriously consider cutting my hair. When my hair is out of it's trademark odango-style, it is considerably longer than kneelength. Add to that a barrage of water, eliminating all possibilities of curls, and you end up with blond very heavy soggy hair trailing in the dirt. It's not a pretty sight and rather uncomfortable, so excuse me if I seem grumpy…

At least being grumpy let's me focus on something else than the growing melancholy. Of the helplessness I feel…

I mean, it's easy to say: 'Just start a new life' but things always sound much easier in theory than in real life. Just how am I supposed to explain where I came from? I have no form of ID, and I'm sure that _some_ form of ID-credentials is needed for jobs, bank accounts, schools, etc… The list goes on…

I don't think this is going to work. I'm going to have to start all over, and I don't know a thing about this place except that the Lunarian's never came here. Fat lot _that's_ going to help me!

No credentials, no money, no clothes, no food… and lot's of experience wearing skimpy clothing. From this point of view, and knowing what my academic skills were like, I have this really bad feeling that hooker is the only line of work I might get.

And… and it's not like I'd be able to keep a permanent job anyway. After all, I'm- I'm a butterfly… I have to constantly be on the move so that the chaos can't catch up with me.

I feel like crying…

* * *

It tingles to feel the cold metal against my skin.

Logically speaking, I shouldn't be able to notice _that_ big a difference in temperature. It's raining after all, quite heavily, resulting in chilled and numb limbs when one only has a hospital gown to wear.

But then, there is something singularly different between cold hard metal and running water. One is a lethal weapon pointing to my head, the other is… weatherconditions, negligible ones.

Duo's choice of protection is a peculiar one. Not that it is unusual in any specific way, it's a standard military handgun, a brand that I approve of. Shows Duo has taste. But the one-bullet rule… does not compute. What use is such a weapon?

I've always known that Duo was a blade person, the few times he was denied explosives showed his preference of such weapons, relying more on those than guns. Yet… I find it rather tasteless and a damned waste of a perfectly good weapon.

It's a shame… Symbolism is wasted on weapons. Unless it is of their destruction.

Still, the odds of me missing my head at point-blank range the first go is in the zero percentages, so the single bullet shouldn't pose a problem for my final mission, but still… It _is_ annoying…

The soldier in me, the little part of my mind not totally dedicated to maintaining this failing body, is sneering in disgust. I do not like being unarmed in open areas, and with that single bullet needed for my mercy-killing, and my body not up to fighting standards, I am…

…vulnerable.

* * *

There's no wonder I didn't spot him immediately, the idiot's been sitting completely still till now on a gravestone. It's so _easy_ to mistake him for another grave memorial in this weather. Just another shadowed statue among dozen others.

Only luck and the fact that he's started tinkering with something in his lap allowed me to spot him while stumbling through the many rows of graves trying to find my way out. Nearly gave me a heart attack when he moved.

How many died here anyway? A lot of these stones look pretty new…

I feel a spike of fear as I realise that another is about to join them as the item in his lap is lifted to his temple. You don't have to be a genius to figure out what he's about to do, not in an area like this; there are only _so_ many things one stick there to my knowledge and _that_ does _NOT_ look like a cell phone!

Call it what you will: automatic reflexes, my 'compassionate' nature, selfish intent or mindless instinct; but I find myself scrambling towards the boy who is slowly lifting a gun to his head.

His dark brown hair is plastered to his head, glistening with the halo of rain drops surrounding him, brushing against focused dark blue orbs the colour of deep space.

His pale brown robe that resembles a hospital gown is glued to his skin, thoroughly soaked, offering even less modesty than it was originally designed for, and I cannot help but wonder how on earth he managed to make it this far wearing only that…

There is a thin trail of pink water being erased by the torrenting rain, and I have fought too many battles to not know the colour of blood as it is washed away.

Something's wrong, and he is sick, and I'm not gonna make it! He is going to _die_…

"_MATTE!_"

What it's supposed to mean:

Matte - Wait (Stop?)  
Musume - Daughter

****

**_Praeceps:_**

**_Looks at her feet Somebody read my story more then once? blush_**

**_First things first: Heero is a weird weird character that can be interpreted so many ways. In this personification some might complain about outofcharacterness, then again, some might not, but this is simply the little part of him that is his mind, and not all of it is truth. In future chapters you might take a look at the fact that what he thinks and what he actually says/does are two completely different things because we are inside his mind, but as he states above: His mind is locked up in a cage, and all the rest of the worlds perceives is his training/programming._**

**_I kept to my promise: This chapter they met (sorta). Next chapter they talk. Heh heh… And just to piqué you some more, that chapter's name is going to be called 'Bullets'_**

**_Random comment1: Yes, I LOVE to break characters psyche to pieces, but whoever said I was going to put them back together again?_**

**_Random comment2: Mudcoloured blood? But, but… Hee-chans human! A special human, but still human (sort of like, but not like '5th element')_**

**_Random comment3: Ack! The pressure of keeping up good writing… Err, I'll try? No, haven't actually taken philosophy but it tends to come naturally to me, did since I was little. Takes after me dad we does! Have read lot's of philosophy books though. (For some odd reason people keep buying them for me. I still don't know why. Am otherwise big on mythology (non-schooling))_**

**_Random comment4: I like to solve puzzles. If something is not explained adequately, then I will reason it out myself from random inspirations. I also derive great joy from twisting things while still sticking to cannon as much as possible ('The Seal' being the one exception. Sorta). But once I've explained them, I won't use those characters again: Meaning first and only GW/SM story) authored by me, ever. (remember that this is a trilogy, so three books!) I will not be starting any new plots anymore, these 4 stories are the ones I'm going to be working on. After that… try my luck at publishing?_**

**_Thank you _**Ashika**_ for both inputs (so that's what it stands for… I've been wondering for so long…)!_**

**_A few people didn't understand what happened to Quatre in the previous chapter, and it was meant to be vague like, but… here's what happened (though I won't say why):_**

**_Quatre is an empath, he can feel peoples feelings/emotions/motives. Quatre then snoops inside Heero's head (meaning well, being worried and all for Heero's sake (the thoughts we can read near the end are mostly, if not all, Quatre's)) during Heero's err…rampage. Normal people don't feel Quatre taking a tour inside their head, but then, Heero's not normal, is he…He promptly shows his displeasure at the intrudance by giving the poor blond a bombardment of ALL his raw emotions (the ones he locks up in his itsy bitsy cage) with a superimposed image of Heero's agony of being invaded (Heero is all about control after all). All theses raw unused emotions that are Heero's send our little empathy into overload, completely swallowed up in Heero's feelings, and he can't handle it. Finite. (PS. Quatre is fine, just needs a little time to recover)_**

**_Am still waiting for that input about rating… is this a PG-13 or R story? _**

**_For wrong info, some of it's deliberate, to make it suit my story much better, the rest… hey, I'm human, okay- I'm a Sailor Moon guru(relatively speaking), not a Gundam Wing one._**

**_If you have any questions about the story that you find unclear, I will do my best to answer them, as long as I deem them of no harm to my present plot-line. I really appreciate all your ramblings (not in any way meant as insulting, just clearing that up), and might use some for inspiration if permitted, but for now I have my own agenda. _**

**_Thank you for your attention._**

**_Oh! And any spelling mistakes can be blamed on incompetent English teachers, and/or my spell-check program, because I, myself, am PERFECT! ;-P (and when I say I am perfect, I MEAN perfect. My daddy said so ;-P )_**

**_-_**

**_Well that was all, for today at least, toodles! ;-D_**


	8. Part 7: Bullets

Eh… meep.

Right, I'll come right out with the truth: The delay is due to a mixture of exam-jitters (which I did lousy at, anyway), writers block (this is the 5th version of this chapter I've written), laziness (can you spell computer games?), and frantic search for better employment (static).

Changed the rating to R, because this chapter can not possibly be PG-13!

If you want to know what song finally got me over my writers block, you'll have to leave your e-mail address with your review, because it's late, and I don't want to wake my dad to ask were the cd-cover is so I can read it off there… Come on, ask! You might be surprised.

Now on with the show!

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon or Gundam Wing, and right now I'm too lazy to look up who actually does. I'm just stating that it's certainly not me.

**Part 7: Bullets**

Even as I hear the click of the gun being loaded, I still know that there is time to stop it. But I'm _too_ far _away_…

"_MATTE_, _ONEGAI_"

* * *

Contrary to what many people might think, Japanese is not a common language anymore. The people itself, as so many other cultures and races, have blended into society so much that at this point there is nearly no distinguishing them from other Homo sapiens.

My first spoken language has always been Nihongo, the chosen language of Nihonjin, the people of the sun. It has always been one of the mysteries surrounding my origins, as I cannot recall ever being taught this speech, and no one speaks this language anymore than they do Latin. Yet, my looks were like one of them. Of people integrated into one giant society…

As I stare into the darkness of the night, holding a gun pointed to my head, I marvel at the sight of this golden haired beauty running towards me; because the language that escapes her lips is _not_ the language of this world, the common English that surrounds me, but the one thing that will stop me where nothing else could:

Nihongo…

* * *

It really is peculiar when you can watch everything that's happening in slow-motion; it all seems so… weird.

I can see myself running, flailing through the mud and crashing into gravestones on my mad dash toward a boy I do not know.

The way the boy's eyes widen fractionally as I stumble, flying, tumbling to the ground at his feet, scraping my knee; at his mercy. How they flash as I look up at them, at _him_, lost as the raindrops glisten in his hair.

The rain seems to stop as our eyes meet, one lying in the mud as the other looks down, judging; the fog of our cold breath mingling, dancing to our racing hearts in this midnight air. Watching as his eyes harden, what connection we shared be broken as the track of a lethal weapon is altered, his finger tightening on the trigger.

Any moment now, as my eyes flutter shut, I am going to hear a bang and it's not going to be his blood flowing…

* * *

"Who are you?"

I do not know this girl looking up at me. Is she a civilian? Is she sent by Quatre? Is she an enemy covered in disguise?

Covered in mud, crying, I know she cannot stop me. Nobody ever could.

Lying on the ground, looking dejected, weeping silent tears; she cannot be a soldier, but can she be a threat?

* * *

I remember when I was all that was left. When my friends had died and Galaxia had been destroyed by Chaos.

Floating.

A world of space, a cauldron brimming with unborn stars. A child with the eyes of an ancient being, begging me to end it all; because the fighting will _never_ end. Misery is eternal and my beliefs are destroyed.

Looking into his eyes, I see the same emptiness. Do you not shiver, boy with eyes of space? Do you feel no warmth? Have you touched the same cold substance of merciless truth and realised the dawning horror of our existence?

Are you as lost as I am?

* * *

"_Who_ _are_ _you_?" I ask again. I am getting tense, my shoulder is twinging from my fight with Duo, and I am ignoring this because it is necessary; I will not be vulnerable, I _can_not be vulnerable, in front of _her_, in front of _any_one; and I am weak and I am tired and I want this to end, because I want to die.

I want to _die_.

* * *

"I want to die."

I can hear it echo in the dark, and for a moment of surprise I don't know who of us spoke it, but it doesn't matter because I want to die as well, and then I remember; it was me…

* * *

I made a promise to Relena; I promised I would never kill again. But then, this is one promise I have never been able to keep. My hands are too bloody, and I was created for death. It was never my promise to give.

* * *

What makes me think that this teenaged boy, standing above me, will kill me?

He is pale and sickly as I see the outline of his ribs through his torn and soiled hospital gown and his arms are trembling ever so slightly from the effort of holding the gun still. His nose is bleeding.

And yet… this ghostly boy will be my salvation.

* * *

I never did manage to kill Relena, Relena is too innocent. She is everything I could have been if I had not been born who I am. And for that, I am grateful.

But this girl is _not_ innocent.

* * *

And I truly _do_ believe that he can kill me.

* * *

The only issue is: _Is it right?_

* * *

I have seen too much and I cannot run from this fight. No tears or whining will stop this horror, and the longer I fight, the more I will destroy, because this time… the demon is _Me_.

* * *

I was wrong.

_Click_.

* * *

I wonder what the world will be like without me in it. Will it be any different?

Will Minako continue to be an otaku?

Will Makoto no longer have someone to feed?

Will Rei still become a shrine maiden?

Will Ami grow more shy and distant as she hides behind her books?

I will never know.

But then, they don't exist on this world and I will never see them again.

_BANG!_

* * *

I was five the first time I killed. I helped Odin with his targets before that, but that is the first kill that I can remember, that I acknowledge was purely mine.

Taking a life is amazingly easy. Bones will brake. Necks will snap. Organs will burst. We bleed.

I don't even need a gun. I _AM_ Death.

My hands are bloody. They will remain so. With each new drop added, I become a little less human. But then… was I ever human to begin with?

Feel less. More detached. I am destroying myself a little more every day. When have I gone too far…?

* * *

"There was only that one bullet. If you wish to die, I advise that you go find a bridge and jump off."

* * *

…Not today.

* * *

I didn't know I could cry anymore…

* * *

"WHY DID YOU _DO_ THAT!_ BAKA!"_ And tiny delicate fists are pounding on my chest, ever harder in her despair. But what can I tell her? That I am sorry? That I understand what it's like to want to die over and over again, and still be denied?

There is no easy way in this life, and looking into her eyes, she knows this. It will only get worse.

But you are still allowed to cry.

Because if you don't, who will?

_

* * *

All my hopes lay in that bullet; as tears stream down, I cannot help but think: My peace, my dream, the hope that this was the end, that I wouldn't have to live this life! and now it's shattered, __gone_. my hopes lay in that bullet; as tears stream down, I cannot help but think: My peace, my dream, the hope that this was the end, that I wouldn't have to live this life! and now it's shattered, . 

And it angers me even more that he doesn't even winch as I pound at him with my fists, as I cry my heart out and he remains unmovable, a rock, merely looking down at me with those flat lifeless orbs of his, unflinching.

_Can you not even comfort me?_

* * *

Watery eyes gaze up at me from a face full of mud.

"Now neither of us can die."

* * *

As the rain slowly stops, you can see the moon peaking out among the clouds and suddenly it's not so cold anymore.

It isn't my moon, but it's shine is the same; and though I am no longer a Lunarian, part of me can still take comfort under it's pure light; and in it's shine we must make quite a pair:

A dirty blond and a ravaged bishonen.

* * *

The gun clatters to the ground, a piece of metal. It is of no use anymore and it is heavy in my arms. Duo will find another one.

* * *

"So what will you do now?"

Will you die alone, in the dark as you were trying this day?

* * *

Gazing up at the sky, I can almost pretend I am home, resting in the cradle of Wing Zero in outer space. There is no mission, there is no war, there is only me and the stars that I embody, floating in space, and I will never die because time stands still and this moment will never end and I will always _be_ here.

"I'm going home," and I don't remember ever having used this voice, is this me? is this voice mine, and have I used it before? When did I speak with this voice and why have I never heard it before?

I... I think I am at peace, for the first time in my life.

"I am going home."

* * *

And I think I am happy for him, because his eyes are so beautiful and everything is calm, and it's an okay night even though it's been raining. And we can always die another day…

* * *

"_Don't die alone_."

And her face is serious as she ask me this, and I find I can't deny her as I answer, "I'll wait for you," and it makes her smile as I really mean it. Maybe we _are_ not alone.

"Next time, we can die _together_."

* * *

Soon the sun will rise and the birds will start singing, but it is still dark, for a little while longer, and he is walking away. Going home.

I don't know what this morning will bring, maybe I will regret staying alive, but for now I am at peace. This is a whole new world, and I can do anything because I _am_ everything. Because I am a Butterfly and there is _nothing_ I can't do.

* * *

One day I am going to die and it is going to be painful, because it has hurt so much already, and it will be soonbecause I am _meant_ to die; but right now I am alive, and though I can feel myself still bleeding and that something is wrong, I no longer feel like I am falling apart, I can pull myself together, and even when I feel a pair of hands wrapping around my waist like Relena always tried to, I don't blink.

* * *

The way his eyes slightly widens -that I shouldn't really be able to see- and then closes off, as he patiently waits for me to speak, and his thin frame tenses before he relaxes, but it's all pretend and he still doesn't trust me, because we don't know each other –I don't even know his name- but I need to tell him, because he is still sick:

"Don't die."

* * *

An angel-face splattered with mud is what I see, peaking out from over my shoulder.

A girl with golden tresses trailing to the ground in abnormal lengths, as impractical as it should be impossible, as she clings to me and for a moment something happens and I don't know what it is, but I make a promise:

"I won't."

Looking into my eyes, we are both serious; I don't know what she sees, there is nothing there.

I have no soul.

But it makes her smile, and in the waning moonlight she looks like one of Duo's angels.

I want to know what she is…

* * *

"What are you?"

I don't know.

Once I was a schoolgirl, living a normal life; but that was a lie.

Once I was a princess, royalty of the moon and beloved of Endymion, but that was long ago.

Yesterday I was Tsukino Usagi, champion of Love and Justice, but I am no longer _that_ Usagi, because she died…

* * *

"I am a Butterfly. Just a butterfly," she laughs and is gone.

I walk home, and as I swing in toward the gates that lead to Quatre's mansion, I feel much better now.

What it's supposed to mean:

Matte – Wait  
Onegai – Please  
Nihongo – Japanese  
Nihonjin – Japanese people  
Otaku – Fan (an obsessive one)  
Baka – Idiot  
Bishonen – Pretty boy

**_Praeceps:_**

**_I am sooo glad that I finally got this chapter out! Two months! (winch)_**

**_Then again, I wasn't going to send out something that I despised (failed perfectionist)._**

**_But now! I am satisfied, and am actually quite pleased by how this chapter turned out (though that might have more to do with it finally being over (the chapter, that is), than the quality of penmanship) Even with debatable out of characterness (pay attention to each's point of view. It's not always what they say), and morbid plot (heh)._**

**_Anyone who claims this is romantic will be lynched! This was NOT a love at first sight meeting, nowhere in this chapter is there love. Puzzlement, curiosity, fascination, kinship… Ah bonding… (sighs wistfully) I like love-at-first-sight just like any girl (well, maybe not ANY girl…), but this is not that kind of story. You take the highroad, and I'll take the low road._**

**_Besides, there are so many stories that revolve around Heero and Usagi meeting, and then Usagi healing him. (I like braking people, not putting them back together.) And even if I made Usagi try, and I'm not saying if I will or won't, what makes you think she would succeed?_**

**_Oh, and would anyone that knows Sailor Moon's speech in Japanese about love and justice etc be bothered to notify me? I'm going to need it in this following chapter or the next one, and I'm not too sure where to find it._**

**_To whoever _**_Mi** is: "Not that I don't appreciate your enthusiasm (because I DO), but leaving that kind of message makes hell on scrolling when I want to check out the others comments."(not being mean here)**_

**_To _**_Shade**: "Can I have those cookies now?"(mind you, I will forfeit those cookies if it means I get to read more of your fascinating contemplations…)**_

**_For wrong info, some of it's deliberate, to make it suit my story much better, the rest… hey, I'm human, okay! I'm a Sailor Moon guru(relatively speaking), not a Gundam Wing one._**

**_If you have any questions about the story that you find unclear, I will do my best to answer them, as long as I deem them of no harm to my present plot-line. I really appreciate all your ramblings (not in any way meant as insulting, just clearing that up), and might use some for inspiration if permitted, but for now I have my own agenda. _**

**_Thank you for your attention._**

**_Oh! And any spelling mistakes can be blamed on incompetent English teachers, and/or my spell-check program, because I, myself, am PERFECT! ;-P (and when I say I am perfect, I MEAN perfect. My daddy said so ;-P )_**

**_-_**

**_Well that was all, for today at least, toodles! ;-D_**


	9. Part 8: Reflex

I am back from the realm of 'in the middle of moving, accompanied by treacherous phone-people'.

Want to know more? Check author page, it's been updated.

Now on with the much delayed show!

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon or Gundam Wing, and right now I'm too lazy to look up who actually does. I'm just stating that it's certainly not me.

**Part 8: Reflex**

Imagine night-time:

You are in stuck in the Preventers building, watching over a close friend as he is recovering from assault, stroking his hair to sooth the sobbing youth, while you are worrying about your other dear friend.

He is terminally ill. He is unstable. He has no hope of recovery and you feel helpless, knowing he planned this… this… running away, and executed it to _perfection_. Always perfection.

They didn't even know he'd run off, didn't know that he had done it, didn't know that he had planned it, until it was too late. He's gone now.

Then, you discover the gun missing. And they all know how eager Heero is to terminate himself.

Wufei can remember clearly _that_ night:

They had given up. It was growing close to daybreak and Yuy still wasn't back. They didn't think he would. Be _back_.

Winner was still crying as they returned to the mansion, leaning on Maxwell as they left the car, and Maxwell… Duo, himself had looked quite distraught. Wufei had been looking everywhere but at them, avoiding everyone's eyes, and he'd felt like a cowered for doing that. Barton remained silent.

As dawn was creeping slowly closer, they'd been walking up the path in silence, none wishing to speak.

And then, Winner had frozen. His head snapping up like a deer, caught in the eyes of a predator, and his tears were forgotten.

The war may have been over, but not long enough. Hard earned paranoia will never leave you. They had all spun, weapons raised.

It was Yuy.

Duo also remembers that night, the moment they spotted him:

He appeared from the shadows, fazing out of the darkness as if he was one with it, gliding up towards them like a wraith. Duo had thought he was seeing a ghost.

And then Quatre had pushed him away, making him stumble, while the crying blond rushed towards the seeming spectre. And all that Duo could think as Quatre opened his arms and dove recklessly towards the silent figure was that: If that _really_ is Hee-chan, then Quatre was going to die; because Heero never _EVER _let anybody touch him. Not like _that_. And right now, Heero didn't have _any_ self-control at _ALL_.

But when he opened his eyes, Quatre was still alive, holding onto the brunette fiercely, sobbing into his chest "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" as he hugged him for dear life. And the only sign of Heero's discomfort was the way his pupils dilated for a nanosecond, face going blank in surprise, before he slowly, hesitantly, nearly timidly, raised his hands, encircling the youth, embracing him back. And as he processed the situation and the words the blond was hiccupping sunk in, a transformation took place; he relaxed, masks falling away, forgetting all others, shaking off his rustiness, growing more confident as he comforted the weeping Arabian.

"Nakanai de," he hushed softly, his nasal voice growing husky, stroking soothingly the youths hair, "Nakanaide kudasai, chibi senshi. Daijobu. I feel better now, so don't cry."

And then he smiled; and for a moment, just a _single_ moment, Duo could _see_, they ALL _saw_, how Relena could fall in love with Heero.

Flash

_"…The truth is I _am_ a perfect soldier; as perfect as can ever be…"_

Flash

'But the Perfect Soldier is not _you_; is it Heero…?'

That had been three months ago, and it is now August. They still don't understand what happened, and Heero never showed that smile again. Maybe it is for the best? Because now, Heero is _back _and he's finally getting well.

* * *

"He's getting better, Lady."

"…"

"He's growing restless."

"… I know."

"Let him come back."

"…"

_"Please."_

* * *

"…not that it's bad that you're getting better, Hee-chan, but you have to admit that it _is_ kinda weird, you getting better like that; I mean, you were _dying_, man, and now… well, shit! you know what I mean, don't you? And Sally's having a cow, trying to figure all this out, and you're saying nothin, silent as Buddha, and come on dude, it's annoying! Everybody tiptoeing around you, and we're all dieing to know what happened…"

Click. "Duo. Shut up."

"H-hey!" Yelp. "Put that away Hee-chan, you might shoot somebody."

Sigh. "Seems they're coming."

Trowa smirks, "Was there any doubt?"

Wufei shakes he's head, "Nataku."

"Duo, could you please be quiet for a minute? Heero, put that away; we're nearly at Une's office."

"At least one of them has some sense," the Chinese grumbles, crossing his arms.

"Yo, Une-lady," the braided menace salutes, skipping merrily into the office; followed by a blank-faced Heero, absently tucking his gun into his pocket, and an embarrassed Quatre trailing their wake.

"Duo," Une nods, before shifting her attention to the object of this meeting, "Heero, good to see you."

"Hn." Yes, Heero is without a doubt feeling better.

"I assume that Sally cleared you?"

A curt nod answers that sensitive issue.

Sighing, folding her hands on the table, Une begins reluctantly:

"I won't lie; I don't think you are ready to come back. You have proved unreliable, shown signs of both mental and physical instability, and up till three months ago, you were dying."

"My job is to prevent war. I protect these people and will do anything to ensure this fragile peace remains. You are a threat Heero Yuy, both by your actions and your own admission. I-" Une's jaw clicks shut, her mouth a thin line as she frowns unhappily, before ploughing on, admitting, "I don't know what to do with you."

Shuffling her papers, she lets this sink in with her audience. They are for obvious reasons displeased.

"However; there is a problem." Une's curt statement makes the others jump, they thought she had finished; Heero remains immobile, unimpressed.

"Much as I detest going against my better judgement, recent circumstances," she winches, "have aroused a need for a… special agent." Sharp eyes look into Prussian blue. "I need you, Heero Yuy." Snapping around to the rest of them: "This will NOT leave this room."

A metallic screen unfolds across the Lady's wall, abrupt and without warning, the ex-pilots still feeling the tense anticipation from the stressed '_special_ agent'. The flick of a button turns it on and the image of a room, more of an office, appears onscreen. People are frozen across the wall, caught in a moment, miniatures going about their daily lives. Another flick, and they start moving. There is no sound.

"Wednesday, April 19th," Une narrates, "a rebel group, called Crimson Mist, attacked a Preventers office."

On screen the door bangs open, disturbing the peace of the office. A dozen armoured men stride in, quickly, bearing Uzi's. The people, obviously civilians, meaning this is a civilian section of the building, freeze.

"They took the civilians hostage."

The rebels can be seen silently rounding the people, herding them to one side. The tiny people go quietly.

One soldier separates from the others. The leader. He makes a phone call.

"The one standing alone is Bartholomew Bartoch. He is making demands."

Onscreen, Bartholomew is yelling at the earpiece. They cannot hear what he is saying, but it doesn't take much imagination. The Preventers don't negotiate with terrorists.

In the background, they can see the hostages shivering.

"They are not important."

Bartholomew is screaming through the phone, waving his gun in angry gesticulations that the receiver could not possibly see. Or care about.

It is a cruel reality. They can see the hostages faces, when they realise that nobody is going to save them. They are going to die.

An older man steps forward, a cliché, trying to be brave, pleading with the terrorists. Bartholomew shoots him. Heroes are not wanted.

The hostages scream. A young girl fights the mob, crawling resolutely over to the fallen man, pressing on his wounds, trying to save him.

"…but She _is_."

The girl presses fabric to the wounds, trying desperately to staunch the bleeding. But they can all see it isn't helping. The blood keeps pooling around them.

She is crying. She _knows_.

The man grows stills. Twitching. Dead.

Bartholomew shouts at her, most likely ordering her back.

The girl rises. They can see her tremble, hands fisting, watching the body.

One of the soldiers takes a menacing step forward, reaching out for her. And the world explodes in light.

Une flicks a button and the film slows even more.

Picture by picture they see white light burst out from the girl. Covering her like a supernova. The faint outline of a human shape inside the burning light. The way the other people are shielding their eyes. And then the light fades. It could not have been more than a second gone by.

Sharp intakes of breath.

* * *

He _died_.

They _killed_ him.

No.

_No_.

NO!

* * *

There was an angel standing where the girl had stood. A funny looking one. Wearing a sailor-multi-skirted uniform. And the wings were not proper wings if you looked closely; they were the bow of the dress. And yet, they were _wings_.

"They say she was beautiful, with a crescent moon emblem on her forehead," Une murmurs, watching the image that their eyes have trouble fixing on, each time they slide off, unable to focus. "Pale, golden streamers hung from two ornamental buns, and eyes the colour of silver…"

* * *

They Will _Pay_.

* * *

Her face narrows in anger, they can see her speak.

"She spoke in a foreign language, and yet all the people there claim they understood her. 'Ai to seigi no, seeraa fuku bishoujo senshi, Seeraa Muun. Tsuki ni kawatte, oshiokyo.' It means—"

* * *

"_I am the beautiful sailor-suited soldier, Sailor Moon; Champion of Love and Justice. In the name of the moon, I will punish you!_"

* * *

Reflex.

Reflex is in reality an automatic response to a given situation that may harm your body. Signals will be sent from nerve till nerve, travelling at speeds beyond comprehension, until it reaches your spine. Should your mind be the one to make the decision, the prompted reaction would reach most limbs too late, even if they _were_ travelling at the 'speed of light'. So the spine makes the decision for you; and most times, you will never feel the pain you should have. Because you really move _that_ _fast_.

But people are complex, and with this complexity, so does the meaning of reflex expand. Because reflexes can be taught. And however unnatural this action is, you will still react to this given situation the same way; because it is _reflex_, an automatic motion, and you Did Not Think.

You _Acted_.

* * *

Gasp.

_'What have I done!'_

* * *

A single delicate hand lifts to her face. Eyes staring in incomprehension at the glove covering it.

She shakes.

* * *

This is not real. This is not happening.

When I wake up Chibiusa will be lying on my bed drawing, and when I tell her about my dream she will call me odango-atama and laugh because I believed it, and then we will go down and eat one of okaasan's wonderful meals.

I can feel tears stinging.

_

* * *

"Iya."_

At first, they think that they imagined the sound. But then they see how Heero tenses, his pupils widen as his eyes practically swallow the image of the now suddenly trembling 'angel'.

And then they realise that her lips are moving, and they can hear her ghostly whispers as she shakes her head in denial.

_"Iya."_She weeps.

Yet all else is silent.

* * *

This isn't _real_.

* * *

The Crimson Mist look as lost at what to do as the suffering figure standing alone, moaning in soul depriving misery, voice quailing as it rises in volume, _"IYA."_

* * *

This Is Not_ Real!__

* * *

"IYA!"_

* * *

NOT _REAL!__

* * *

"IYA!"_

And with that last scream, the building ripples, the air moves, waves become tangible as the scream goes up an octave, transforming into a horrendous keening sonic wave that spreads out from her centre. The glass shatters, spraying everyone; the windows bulge, expanding in a gross parody of a balloon before exploding; glass is raining everywhere. And the people fall to their knees, clutching their ears as they try to shut out the screeching sound.

Sympathetic waves echoes through Une's office, but this is an recording, an unexplainable imprint, and the sound is from the past. It is bearable. But they can feel the glass vibrate.

On screen the figure is still keening, arms wrapped around her stomach in an effort of self-comfort, lost in her own world of sorrowful misery.

Across the room, among the fallen people; there is no distinguishing between soldier and civilian, they have all fallen to the ground, defeated; one, Bartholomew, raises his head with effort. A shaking arm flops, trying to rise, uselessly. A second is lifted, joining the first, and together they rise from the floor. This feat alone is obviously taking tremendous effort, requiring an effort of will. The gun held in the trembling hands is fired.

The angel crumbles.

There is silence.

"What-" Duo begins, but is shushed by Une.

"Shhh. Watch."

People slowly get up. They all look shaken. Ashen. The soldiers look to Bartholomew for advice. Their leader is still on his knees, trembling, arms outstretched, holding the gun. Seeing nothing.

* * *

"Sir?"

"Sir?"

They try shaking him awake.

"Is she dead, sir?"

Blink, blink.

"I-" he stammers, before he turns to them, "I shot her in the heart."

"…" The hostages are beginning to come out of their daze.

One of his soldiers takes a hesitant step towards the body, while the rest of them shift, restlessly. "Is the mission aborted, sir?"

They all look at him.

He looks at them. Hesitant.

"No."

He firms his resolve.

"_No_, the mission will-" he turns around.

* * *

"Oh Allah," Quatre gasps. The rest are speechless.

The body twitches. The fingers spasm briefly. And then, with an unnatural grace, the angel sits up.

* * *

She is getting up.

Horror.

Drunkenly, she is getting to her feet.

What do I do? What _is_ she?

She looks up.

* * *

I feel numb.

* * *

Her suit is flawless, still a pristine white. Not a speck of crimson mars it.

"I didn't know it could do that," she says idly, brushing off imaginary dust. "Thank you." And then she smiles. It's a nasty smile of one no longer innocent.

I have to get away!

Take a step back. She mirrors it. Take another step away. She mirrors that as well. Panic! Take a third step. A soldier shoots her.

She pauses, looking down at her arm. Surprised. It is bleeding. Red blood trailing down bare skin.

"Hmmm," she hums in childish fascination, watching the blood flow, "That is bad."

Silver eyes pierce my skin as she looks up, eyes glowing; they take up all of her face, shading the rest.

"_My turn_."

* * *

Her clothes disintegrate into sand as she explodes into action, falling away from her in pink streams around her feet. And just as quickly as it touches the floor, it slithers up her form again, undulating, like it's _alive_, spreading out across her moving body. Covering everything; her naked body, her hair, her face. Everything. A pink silhouette. The view is more terrifying than one would think.

The pink form expands, morphing. The hair falls loose, blowing in a nonexistent wind, rising on its own, braiding itself into two pointed buns, the loose ends coming to a rest by the small of her back, before returning to it's pale golden colour.

The dust contracts, sinking into the skin, revealing a high collared bodysuit of dark green and blue, colours so familiar because you see them every time you look out of a space shuttle back at Earth.

Where the suit ends, long gloves come up to cover the skin, one green, one blue, from shoulder and down. There is no skin exposed. The boots thicken, growing flat and hard soles; better to run with.

A butterfly unfolds it's wings across her eyes; hiding her face behind an aquamarine shimmer. Protected.

And all the while she is moving, running, speeding towards the soldiers doom.

"They will die now," Une states.

They believe her.

* * *

It was blood that gave me life, the weak crying out for a hero to come forth for them. It is blood that I will spill from them that would prey on the innocent. I was made for such war.

Judge, Jury and Executioner; I am a soldier, forged in battle.

I will protect the weak. I will fight for justice. I will destroy all evil. I WILL KILL YOU!

* * *

Blood splatters across the screen. Between the splotches they can see the fighter.

She is cold. She is efficient. She is ruthless. They stood no chance.

An elbow to the ribs. A knee in the stomach. Spin around. Snap. Next one.

Imploding ribcages. Broken backs. Snapped necks. People coughing up blood. Others pleading for mercy. Begging falling on deaf ears. She hears no one.

And in the end there is silence. The soldiers were annihilated.

The film stops as she turns towards the camera, a frozen glimpse caught of a deadly beauty.

"She escaped through the broken window," Une says, looking up in wonder, "It was the 27th floor."

_

* * *

Flash of pale pink butterfly wings…_

* * *

"You are not fit to join the Preventers, Heero Yuy; but only you can hope to catch this being. Other people know of her, and there will be nothing they would not do to own her. Should they catch her, there will be war. Your peace is at stake, Heero Yuy; will you take this mission?"

But Heero isn't sitting on his chair anymore, he is standing in front of the wide screen, even as the other pilots complain about the outrageousness of this mission.

Yet what Une sees is Heero, standing in front of the image, looking at the girl. A hand is half outstretched, hesitant, longing, and he is frowning, whether at his hand or at the image, an image that they know is of a blond but a blond that nobody can put a face to.

"Will you take the mission, Heero?" she repeats.

He doesn't answer. The four others quiet, looking back to the silent figure as his hand stretches, resting on the fleeting image. His arm moves in a gentle caress.

"Ryoukai."

"What?"

"Ninmu ryoukai. I will do it."

"Hee-chan," Duo hesitantly lies a hand on his friends shoulder, "What do you see, Heero?"

The youth remains silent for a minute, contemplating his boots, before he looks up at his friends concerned face, eyes hardened again with familiar resolve. The fingers spread out, splayed across her face as he faces away from her image, and Duo let's go as he feels something he cannot explain. Spider webs spread out across the screen, cracking like a shattered mirror, blurring the image even more before Heero lets go.

"Wait! What did you do, Heero!" Duo shouts at his back as the brunette grips the door handle.

He turns around; they are all surprised to see him smiling sadly, wistfully, "Gomen nasai." He bows. "You will have to ask Wufei." And the Chinese teen looks as surprised as the rest of them, watching the young man exit through the door, trailing a "Sayonara."

With the sound of the door closing, the screen crumbles; the sound of tinkling glass hitting the floor in myriads of shards, though there is no glass there. Behind the web, they can now see a proper figure emerging; Heero's image…

Sad blue eyes, looking at you; they look soft. Delicate golden eyebrows frown in sorrow. Pink lips turned upwards slightly, almost regretful; knowing she has lost something. And a mask.

_"What do you see, Heero?"_

And the wind whispers in reply:

"A butterfly…"

What it's supposed to mean:

Nakanai de – Don't cry  
Nakanaide kudasai, chibi senshi – Please don't cry, little soldier  
Daijobu – I'm allright  
Ai to seigi no, seeraa fuku bishoujo senshi, Seeraa Muun. Tsuki ni kawatte, oshiokyo. (Usagi's speech- curtesy of **Usagi****Shiratori**)  
Okaasan - Mother_  
Iya _- No_  
_Ryoukai – (Er...) Roger that/Understood (?)  
Ninmu ryoukai – Mission accepted  
Gomen nasai – I'm sorry  
Sayonara – Good bye (do research on it yourself for more, I do not pick random words!)

****

**_Praeceps:_**

**_This baby seems to be suffering severely from angst. Oh well, can't change that. Story is as story comes. I'm just glad that I finally got this chapter out! _**

**_I've been mean to Usagi again, but don't tell me you actually expected all to be sunny from here? The girl's in a foreign world. And I wanted to explore the senshi's (manga) habit of killing all "evil". Whether people or evil youma, things shouldn't be that easy, but I don't think it's ever sunk properly in, since it's been monsters till now that they've been slaying. Bodies seemed to mysteriously vanish in the realm of senshi, so I suppose that they were never confronted with the proof of what they were actually doing. Our beautiful virgin innocent is about to learn this much needed lesson, and watching the bodies pile should drive the lesson home._**

**_I changed the suit. Well, would you want to be reminded of what you lost? Works better than a skimpy skirt as well._**

**_I've probably done wretched Japanese, but it's serving its purpose so I'll let it go._**

**_Just one last thing to say before I leave:_**

**_THE CHASE IS ON!_**

**_Oh! And any spelling mistakes can be blamed on incompetent English teachers, and/or my spell-check program, because I, myself, am PERFECT! ;-P (and when I say I am perfect, I MEAN perfect. My daddy said so ;-P )_**

**_Well that was all, for today at least, toodles! ;-D_**


	10. Part 9: Sacrifice

Sorry about the delay. This was supposed to be up last Sunday (well, the Sunday before that actually, but then my sister came a'knocking.), but something happened to… not sure what to call it… the scripture that I usually use for chapters to be posted on the net: it disappeared last week and now has mysteriously decided to reappear again. I'm seriously stumped.

This chapter will be more choppy than even the others, and it might be a bit boring for you, but not all chapters can be filled with action, and there's knowledge here that you readers need plus we get to see what most of them are up to at the moment. However corny it may read. The choppiness should diminish over the next few chapters hopefully.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or Sailor Moon. I haven't even visited the country that they originate from. Current rumours claim they are owned by a certain Yoshiyuki Tomino and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm not one to gossip -

**-**

**-**

**-**

**Part 9: Sacrifice**

"Any luck?"

"Sigh. No."

Duo slumps across the table. "Ah, come on…! We've been searching for weeks! Heero's probably found her by now."

Quatre frowns. "I wouldn't think so. He'd be back by now then."

"Get back to reading," Wufei barks, flipping through his own ancient tome.

* * *

"_Flight GH-9875 to the L2 Colonies, Quadrant Alpha, is boarding now, please report to Gate 35X…_"

She wasn't on L1.

* * *

"Miss Relena?"

"Yes Otto, I just got the strangest call. Do we have any books on butterflies?"

The butler frowns thoughtfully. "We might, miss; shall I get them?"

"Yes please." Relena gazes thoughtfully out her office window. 'What are you up to, Dorothy?'

* * *

"Forgive me, Lady, but I was under the impression that this was Agent Yuy's mission."

"I'm not asking you to work with 01, his mission is solely to capture the subject; it's a search and retrieve mission. The other pilots are privately investigating the phenomena of the 'Butterfly' in the Chang-clans library. What I need _you_ to do is find out where she came from. Retrace her steps if you have to, but it is paramount that we discover her origins. The Preventers cannot have more people with her powers traipsing the Earth. Will you help us, Zechs?"

The blonde shakes his head in thought. "I'll require the help of Noin."

"Done."

* * *

"Man, this sucks! We're getting nowhere!"

"Settle down, Duo, we're all frustrated," the blonde chides. Looking over to his companion, he asks, "Are you finding anything of use, Wufei?"

The Chinese rubs his temples tiredly. "No. Nataku, it's like reading backwards the ramblings of a senile old onna!"

Trowa's eye glitters with humour, "I believe your 'onna's are a bunch of old male scholars; but they seem to know more wives tales than the average old crone." He grins.

"Injustice," Wufei grumbles.

* * *

The wheels rumble as the flight takes off. The mechanical sound of machinery folding is heard next to the creek of closing pods.

"Would you like a drink with your meal, sir?"

"Hn."

It's going to be a long trip.

* * *

A hand clutches at her heart. Looking to the artificial sky, she frowns. 'Something's coming.'

* * *

"Hey! What are those bunch of books over there, Wu-chan?"

"Hmm? Don't call me Wu-chan," the scholar murmurs distractedly before glancing over at the excited rogue. He sneers, "Oh those." He returns his attention to the dusty book in front of him, "That's just the diaries of a demented old hermit. Ignore them; he died insane."

The American frowns thoughtfully down at the musty books, "Ya' know? I think I'll just take a look at them, anyway."

"Do as you wish, Maxwell."

The library goes silent once again.

_

* * *

…I believe Fate is a river; a river so wide, you cannot see the other side. It must be that big, to cover the destiny of all living beings. An infinite number of streams that join together to form the circumstances of our lives on this world. After all, water is life. Fate is fluid; you will always have a choice._

_But some things are set in stone. Even in a river there are certain rocks that, whatever paths you take, will not be overcome; some water will always flow past and crash against them. These are the events that will happen, no matter what. The reasons they happen, the people they effect, may change, but they _will_ happen…_

* * *

"Hey, this book is pretty interesting, Wufie. Are you sure this guy's a nutter?"

Onyx eyes glare irritably at him. "Chang Beilong claimed to be a great magician and had unlocked the mystic secrets of flying with spirits, when in reality he was a loony old fool that smoked medicinal herbs and shamed our family ancestors by jumping off a cliff while on a high and falling to his death. He was the village idiot and he died an imbeciles death." The teenager snorts disgustedly, "Fly indeed. Humph."

"But Wufei," Quatre cautions, "That girl, she flew."

The Asian teen remains stubbornly silent.

"There are many things that are left unexplained on this Earth. Perhaps we should consider magic," Trowa eyes Wufei calmly.

Wufei grumbles, "I don't believe in magic."

"And yet, we've all experienced its touch," the brunette states serenely, glancing pointedly at the blushing Arabian.

"Well… yes, but—" Wufei splutters.

"And don't forget that funky thing Heero did," Duo chirps smugly. "If that weren't magic, then I don't know what is… And say, aren't you Chinese known for your hocus pocus n' spirits n' stuff?" he gloats.

"Fine!" Wufei growls, "We'll look at the less scientific books as well."

Duo blows a raspberry.

"MAXWELL!"

_

* * *

…But the __river__ of __Fate__ faces many perils. Should it grow too wild, the river will flood, destroying all in it's path. The river would become an ocean of chaos, and all that the gods have blessed us with: structure, order, culture and civilization will be lost in the cacophony of primal confusion, and we would revert to the concentrated matter that was once this cosmos._

_And yet, should the river grow too docile, the water will become stagnant, and no longer will there be a river but a still lake. No more life could grow and soon, all lives would perish and the world would end._

_It is a precarious balance that our future depends on…_

* * *

"Usagi! I'm going out; do you want to come!"

The blonde turns around, smiling sweetly, "No thank you! Working!"

"Man, Usagi! You're always working!" the other girl smiles, closing the door behind her.

Watching sadly the other leave, she returns to her work. 'Will it find me, if I hide?'

_

* * *

…In eons past, scholars, wise men and mystics have debated on the occurrences of the 'Butterfly', a mystical warrior who is always born in times of peace. Together they have formed the Chaos Theory to explain the effect this warrior has on the world:_

_It is thought that the flapping of a single butterfly's wing today produces a tiny change in the state of the atmosphere. Over a period of time, what the atmosphere actually does diverges from what it would have done, like a rock creating ripples in a pond. So, in a month's time, a tornado that would have devastated the Indonesian coast doesn't happen. Or maybe one that wasn't going to happen, does._

_This 'Butterfly' is theorized to be born into a human family, and often lies dormant until puberty when their full powers develop and are unleashed. Before puberty, they often lead an unusual life, preparing them for their future harsh lives, forging them into formidable fighters to ensure their survival. As their powers grow, the surrounding people begin to notice the effects. Slowly, like a building ripple, the 'Butterfly' draws chaos, altering the destinies of everyone they touch, changing Fate until their power consumes them, leaving behind a wake of chaos and destruction…_

* * *

"Hey! I think I'm on to something! This old coot just mentioned 'Butterflies'!"

Chairs are knocked over as the rest crowd around him.

_

* * *

…I have dedicated my life to the study of these mystical beings, and through them have discovered a pattern that has allowed me to develop my ideas about the 'Children of Fate' and the theoretical river that is our destinies into a theory that I believe to be sound…_

* * *

"Child of Fate?"

"Shh! Keep reading!"

_

* * *

…Scholars have obtained recordings all over the continent of past 'Butterflies' that have surfaced, writings of the chaos they have brought with them and the revolutions they have started, destroying the peace and order of past empires. There is a distinct consistency of the 'Butterfly' only emerging in times of peace and prosperity, altering the fate of prosperous civilisations and leading them to ruin, Atlantis being a possible example._

_Yet, my close scrutiny of history has revealed that more warriors have been born than have been documented, and that these anonymous heroes, born in times of strife and great uncertainty, are unregistered 'Butterflies', missed because of their anonymity in war…_

* * *

"_We are about to arrive on L2, Alpha Quadrant. Please fasten your seatbelts…"_

Click.

"Is this your first time on L2, sir?"

Glare.

"Eh…I hope you have a pleasant visit, sir. We look forward to travelling with you again."

* * *

"I've investigated what little there was to find on her. She doesn't seem to have succeeded in remaining inconspicuous, which leaves me wondering where she could have possibly managed to hide without raising suspicion."

Une straightens. "What did you find?"

"She was transferred to the civilian Preventers Office through the Foreign Affairs Centre when they could not acquire a translator to the puzzling language she spoke. They, in turn, found her wandering dishevelled down the streets of Sanq without any form of identification or ways of communication. The trail leads further on, directly to an old graveyard, disturbingly close to Main Headquarters and then vanishes into thin air. It's as if she didn't exists before then. It's a dead end. The only one that could reveal any more of her origins would be Yuy."

"Agent 01? Why?"

"Because sources state he must have been the one that first encountered her. He was sighted leaving the premises shortly after she left, before proceeding to Winner's estate from the exact same direction as her. He couldn't have missed her."

"…"

Zechs shifts uncomfortably.

"Anything else?" Une prods sharply.

The former royalty hesitates, looking at Noin. "It is thought that the female spoke the archaic language of Nihongo."

"…"

"The language of ancient Japanese, long extinct by now. Yuy's mother tongue."

"…"

"Lady?"

"You may leave, Zechs."

* * *

"So, what does that mean? Are there a bunch of super powered humans running around on Earth?"

Whack.

"OW!"

"If you continue reading, we'll all see where this is going…"

_

* * *

…Like the proven fact of physics: that every force must have a counterforce; I believe these unrecorded heroes are the anti-Butterflies, and that with the Butterflies, together, would form a separate race of super humans: the 'Children of Fate'._

_Incorporating the idea of a __river__ of __Fate__, I believe the Children are a flaw or hiccup in the system that occurs when the river is straying too far off course from its equilibrium. The Children are best explained as being born not in the river, as are all things else, but on the land or rocks surrounding it. Thus, they are not a part of the river, and are unbound to the destiny of the world, yet still belong in the world, and affect it when they enter the streams, altering the course of every one they touch._

_The Butterfly would be born in times when there is order and monotony, and the river threatens to fall stagnant. The massive concentration of order she would be born with would act as a magnet and draw towards her huge quantities of chaos, forcing change and reviving the river. While the anti-Butterfly would be born in a war torn world, feeding on chaos and restoring balance to the raging river, acting as a dampener to slow it down._

_Both are polar opposites of each other, one the yin to the others yang; and yet as a people they would be identical, the only difference being the essence of chaos corresponding to the essence of order in each of them, the result of the imbalance of the river at the time they were born. Both would stand out from regular humans with their perfection—_

* * *

"Shit! Do you think—!"

"Oh Allah! Yes, it would explain _so_ _much_…"

_

* * *

—with superior senses and intellect.__ They would be stronger and more resilient with a greater aptitude for the battlefield; born a savant within martial and mystical arts, they would exhibit accelerated mastering and learning, and would quickly become the ultimate warrior, capable of near impossible feats._

_However, the reasoning behind their superior evolution quickly becomes obvious. To ensure their survival, so that they may guide the river back on track, they must remain alive long enough to fulfil their task. One must tame the chaos to bring order, the other must feed it and still survive._

_Sadly, tragedy often follows in the Children's wake. The Butterfly, prone to chaos, will die isolated in the madness that surrounds her, either by the events themselves, spun out of control; or by the hands of a victim, out of angered retaliation. The anti-Butterfly will complete his mission and find himself stranded in a world of order, a hero of war, yet unable to conform to or comprehend the peace and people surrounding him, needing the essence of chaos to remain stable. They resort most often to suicide as a means of escape rather than suffering the agonising ravishing of withdrawal that will kill them in the end. _

_Immune to Destiny, the Children are fated to die horrible deaths. The Children always die young, misunderstood, forgotten and alone, because at any time the river can only produce _one_ Child of Fate. A single sacrificial lamb, meant to save the world…_

* * *

Silence reigned before Quatre spoke:

"You know, I thought it was a bit odd how Heero said goodbye. He's never done that before…"

Trowa shakes his head, "He didn't say goodbye, he said Sayonara."

The blonde glances at the rest of them hopefully, "And what does that mean?"

Wufei glares at the book morosely. "Goodbye for forever."

"Fuck!" Duo punches the wall as the others watch Wufei sombrely.

"I think we just sentenced Yuy to death."

_-_

**-**

**-**

**-**

**_Praeceps: _**

**_I suppose I've disappointed a lot since nothing happened in this chapter, but I believed it to be nessessary. Time will tell._**

**_About the comment Heero made last chapter about Wufei is: I needed someone to have possible knowledge about magic, and Wufei fitted the description. He's Chinese and a scholar, however pragmatic and scientific his own frame of mind may be. Of course, he won't admit to such things as we just saw…_**

**_Next chapter we blow Relena's mind (er… don't take that literaly) and see lots (well, hear lots) about Usagi. And no… points of view are not random, and they can be misleading._**

**_Many seemed concerned with my use of 'iya' instead of 'iie'; the two sites that I use for translating both translate 'iya' as a genuine more informal form of 'iie'. I've seen it used in many other stories on this site, but if they all are wrong then I'll apologies._**

**_Thanks to 'John Steppenwolf' for the authors. I actually DO read all my reviews (except a few that I sometime miss, because forgets to pass them on to me for some stupid reason, and I don't see them until I take a trip down memory lane. Angry huff.) and apologies that I didn't alter my disclaimer sooner, but while I read them, I don't memorise them, and I hadn't updated for several months, so: I forgot. I'm sorry._**

**_Asking for reviews about your opinions of my story and then not reading them, seems a bit silly to me. (Er… just in case I come off as obnoxious, that's not the impression I'm trying make. Though I DO tend to frustrate people. Timid smile.)_**

**_Oh! And any spelling mistakes can be blamed on incompetent English teachers, and/or my spell-check program, because I, myself, am PERFECT! (or to amend that statement: I am MORE perfect than my father, who claims to be the paragon of perfection. I refuse to be outdone! I may have lost the battle of height, but THIS I refuse to give ground on!) (This seems sad, coming from a twenty year old.)_**

**_Well that was all, for today at least, toodles! ;-D_**


	11. Part 10: Quest

Well finished the course, have a job, the warning of lateness was in bio. How have you been?

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or Sailor Moon. I haven't even visited the country that they originate from. Current rumours claim they are owned by a certain Yoshiyuki Tomino and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm not one to gossip -

**Part 10: Quest**

"So let me see if I haven't misunderstood…" Relena glances at her beloved's friends, "You _want_ me to find Heero this time?" Gestures towards herself.

"Yes," Quatre nods enthusiastically.

"Because if I don't…" Relena continues.

"Then Hee-chan will do a dumbass thing," Duo impatiently interrupts the former queen, "Look goldilocks, we've been over this hundreds of times. It _ain't_ that hard!"

"Yes, but…" murmurs the Foreign Minister rather dazedly, "but… you WANT me… ME… to find HIM!" The girl makes exaggerated gestures towards herself.

"It's just that you have so much better connections here on Earth than us, Miss Relena," Quatre explains gently, "And it's imperative that we find Heero as quickly as possible, before he completes his mission."

Relena nods reasonably, "Yes, because he is a butterfly."

"No," Trowa states curtly.

Relief is visible in the poor girls eyes, as she breathes out, "Oh good."

"He's an _­anti_-Butterfly," corrects Quatre amenably, oblivious to the girl nervously edging away from them, eyeing them like they're mad.

"_Onna_!" rages Wufei as she bumps into him, "It's just Yuy being his usual impossible self and finding new ways to blow himself up! The four of us have to leave for the colonies to search for him, and we need _you_ to be on the lookout for him down here, should he _not_ be in space!" The Chinese teen steps closer as she continues to edge away, pushing her back towards her desk as he continues his triad. "I refuse to baby-sit another loony weakling and it's about time that you were of some use to us after all he's done for you!" Shoving her into her seat, he points his finger in her face and barks, "Now sit down and work that infernal harpy magic of yours! Find Yuy!" before storming out of Relena's office.

In the background you can hear someone saying faintly, "Go, Wufei…!"

* * *

"You think she'll do it?"

"By Nataku, if she doesn't than she shall feel more than the wrath of my katana!" Wufei storms as they walk down the corridor.

"She'll do it," states Trowa calmly.

"Yeah, yeah," grumbles Duo, fidgeting in his uniform, "Are you sure, Q-ball, that this'll work?"

The blonde smiles warmly at the worried teen, "It stands to reason that it should work. Chang Beilong may have theorized that two Children of Fate are never born at the same time, but however the circumstances came to be, it seems that there are now _two_ of them; Heero, allegedly, and this Butterfly-person."

"And Yuy seems to have miraculously recovered from his decease at the same time this other 'Child' appeared," continues Wufei, glancing reassuringly over at Duo, "Remember it was in April that he returned after running out on us."

"You think he knows her?" muses the teen dreamily, ignoring the conversation.

"It doesn't matter," states Trowa, "Knowing Heero, he's most likely going to _kill_ her."

The American sets his jaw, "Then we better make sure we find her first."

* * *

It was really a coincidence that made her find me. I'd somehow wound up on this strange metallic asteroid city, and all these people were here, and yet, I felt so alone. I couldn't understand a word they were saying; just enough to realise that they must have been speaking English, the language that I've failed so terribly at. And here I was, trapped on this weird contraption that I later learned was a city of L2, lost and alone. I suppose it doesn't take much imagination to figure out what I did… I sat down and cried, like any decent person would. And that's how she found me, weeping miserably by a dumpster.

_Flashback_

_A smiling face. "Hi. My name's Hilde…"_

She took me home, gave me something to eat and proper clothes. She consoled me, and though I understood not a word she said, I knew that she meant well. That at least is a gift I have not lost; knowing people. Later I asked what made her take a chance on me… She said:

_"You remind me of a friend that had to go away. He saved me; I couldn't let his look-alike succumb to a fate he so narrowly missed." _

I think… she must have been lonely when this friend went away. I've seen his picture, and if there is a resemblance, it is vague… He must have been a very special person.

L2 is a poor place, and if it is run by anything then it must be either the gangsters or the mafia. L2 does not have an underworld, it IS the underworld. Living here is like being constantly surrounded by the threat of the Yakuza; monitored from the shadows. And still, there are so many decent people living here and I've been lucky to meet one of them.

If you look behind its ruff façade, L2 will grow endeared to you. Here is a place that nobody cares about, that the rest of the world would prefer to sweep under the carpet; thieving, whoring, murder and disease, corruption on every corner that you turn, it is a constant reminder in their lives, and yet life prospers here. They continue to live and fight for the right to exists, and though some don't make it and the weak perish, the rest of them don't. They preserve. They smile and they laugh. And… I admire them for that. _This_ you would never see if we built Crystal Tokyo. And I've come to believe it would be a sorry loss indeed.

I feel guilty about things I'd planned to do had I not been a Butterfly. Had this been my Earth, I would have never known such people existed, and all these people would be gone without a thought, lost in the making of what I once thought was Paradise. Are they not worthy of life? Would I exile them, to an hollow existence on the dark planet Nemesis, due to my ignorance? Did I destroy them? Could I really be that _cruel_?

* * *

It's the ruins of Duo's home that I first go to. There's not much left, only a blackened burnt edge or two, but once many people lived here. They were happy. It is only right that I pay my respects to the place that helped create such an efficient soldier; regardless of what he says, it was _their_ sacrifice that made him. The Maxwell Demon would never have come had they not perished. He is loyal.

L2 will be the most difficult to search. Nobody will talk, and here there are many places to hide. Undercover is not my speciality, but I know I will find her here. This is the only place that will provide her with ID unquestioned.

I can feel her drawing closer.

* * *

It's a dark dank place that I find myself.

"So you're Usagi."

"Yes." I hate being nervous, my voice turns all mousy. But this office is creepy. Pipes sticking out everywhere, crisscrossing over our heads. The gloomy atmosphere of a horror film; you can hear the creaky rattle of a broken door and imagine monsters lurking in the shadows. A candlelight is all the illumination we can hope for, this place is too poor for electricity. This is nearly as bad as when Haruna-sensei handed out tests; and this gajin looks remarkably like her. If Haruna ever decided to cut her hair short and wear an eye patch that is. It's really only the strict expression and reddish brown hair that make them similar, but with Haruna I always knew how to act.

An elbow in my side hints that I'm expected to say more.

"My ID get lost in war. Family all gone now. You make me new one for right price, hai?" I think I must look rather deranged with the size of my 'genki' grin I'm flashing rather desperately at this woman; my English is atrocious, I know, and I'm sure that if this _was_ Haruna, she'd be screaming at me now. To them I must sound like some foreign bimbo or dunce, but Hilde has been patient and a good teacher; I have come a long way. And she says it makes me appear more innocent when I butcher the language as I do. I must appear naïve.

"It will cost you…" the forger lazily muses, relaxing, but Hilde has already warned me that we'll have to bargain. This is after all L2; money is scarce.

"I can pay!" It's only after I blurt this out that my brain catches up with my mouth and I winch. Oh how Minako would disapprove. That… was NOT the way to begin a bargaining. It's not as if I haven't had some practice with the previous two crooks, though the lessons from Minako's days as otaku are probably more helpful. I should know better than to give them the upper hand the first round. But then, I _am_ playing the fool.

Hilde is the bestest friend I could have, so I feel guilty for deceiving her like this. But Butterflies must flee, and I will need more IDs than she can know of. It isn't safe for her to be this close; paying what Elda demands is a sacrifice I must make. Next time I'll know where to go. There will be no fool to greet Miss Elda, and Hilde will never be the wiser.

_Today_ I become Usagi Chochono, victim of war.

_

* * *

"Duo, you know best the places of L2, so I think you better cover those grounds."_

_" 'Kay Q!"_

* * *

"Uuuuusagiiiiiiii! Can you go shopping!"

Hmm? Blink, blink.

"Suuuure, Hilde!"

Shit! Of all the times to ask. But it's not like I can tell her that I can't, because I've spent all the money I've earned so far. What would I say? 'Sorry Hilde, but I snuck out at night and blew it all away on passports I wasn't going to tell you about. What's that you say? Uh huh, yes, that's right, I AM planning to skip town. And change identity. And never speak to you again. Without you knowing why. Why? Oh, I'm this magical fucked up warrior that is destined to succumb to my own chaotic energy. It's going to hurt like a bitch, and create quite a backlash. So I thought I'd do the noble thing and leave you in the dark, before I destroy your life. No, I am NOT a psycho; this is the God's Honest Truth. Neat, huh?'

Snort. Yeah, right.

This world isn't even aware of the possibility of magic! And my being here is already warping the world as they know it. I'm amazed that Hilde hasn't noticed yet the amount of ghosts that seem to be suddenly cropping up. But then, it starts small. After the war of god knows what, a lot of angry dead soldiers seem to be rebelling against fate. I've become quite an efficient exorcist.

Sigh, it looks like I might have to shoplift. The things you learn on L2…

Carrots, lettuce, paprika, sidle out the door quietly. Go to next shop. Pasta, tomatoes, sneak a glance, meat. Go to hiding place, add new loot.

Third time's the charm. Just as I'm about to leave the store, clutching my carton of milk, that balloons come soaring down.

"CONGRATULATIONS! YOU ARE OUR 1,000,000 CUSTOMER!"

…

I suppose I _was_ pushing my luck.

Oh, but _come_ _on_! This is L2 we're speaking about. They can't _afford_ giving prizes away to millionth customers! What am I supposed to say as they get closer? Grin a cheesy smile and say 'Actually I'm not a customer, I'm a cute little thief helping myself to your wares'?

As I said earlier, the chaos is mild kids stuff so far, but oh, can it get you into trouble if it aims _just_ _right_.

I bet they've never had someone running away from a monetary prize before. And of course, the buggers would follow me. Who wouldn't run, trying to give away money? This most be an awfully nice shop, in which case, I feel guilty for stealing from them; _or_, and it would be just typical if it was, something strange and underhanded is going on. What is it this time? Slave market? Picky cannibals? People that want to buy my hair?

Magic might not be known to this world, but it sure comes in handy in a pinch!

* * *

Wings burst from the girls back. Jumping up, she flaps hard, giving her a boost. She disappears over the roof.

The boy's eyes follows the figure as long as she is visible. When she's gone, he stands thoughtfully, gazing at the brick wall.

She didn't see him.

But he saw _her_.

* * *

This spaghetti better be worth it. Stupid gajins and the foods they make. I've had enough of loonies for today! If I missed some things on the shopping list, she can go and buy it _her_self!

Looking like a thundercloud _does_ seem to have an effect as I go stomping through the streets. I am left alone. And it's not as if I have a right to complain. So far, everything weird that's been happening has been natural. Well, besides the ghosts, that is. I'll worry more when this universe becomes accustomed enough to start spewing demons and warlocks and aliens, oh my. I wonder if I would be classified as any of those to the rest of the population? Alien, yes; I'm from an alternate reality. Warlock, I suppose so; I'm magical after all. Demon…to some, maybe?

I can hear voices as I come up to the door. Hilde's shack isn't exactly soundproof. That isn't the TV.

I… should I stay? Or should I take this as a sign to leave? I've been postponing it so far because I really _like_ Hilde. I don't want to leave her alone. She's like a mix between Makoto and Minako, and I think she would be devastated if I left without saying goodbye. I don't know if I have it in me to do that.

But that laugh that I can hear through the door, I've never heard her laugh like that before. And that other voice… That is definitely not a girl!

The choice is taken from me when the door opens on its own.

"USAGI!"

What it's supposed to mean:

sensei – teacher, etc  
gajin – foreigner  
hai – yes  
genki – energetic (cheerful)  
otaku – (obsessed) fan of something

**_Praeceps:_**

**_Well, maybe not blow her mind, but confuse her? Sheepish grin I liked Wufei's explosion, though it might not have come across very well. Not trying to downplay Relena, but anyone would have trouble believing this dribble. She shows up again in a couple of chapters! Hopefully more _dignified**

**_I am sorry, the beginning of this fic probably IS more exciting than the rest, but the hunt has started now. We'll see what happens. It should peak again, but I can't say honestly when it will begin. Some action _should_ arise next chapter, if not, then the next. Today, it seems, was a day for Usagi-sarcasm instead, not fighting._**

_Angelight**: Laughs, does it comfort you if I said I was born a hundred, and am slowly regressing? I **_**do**_** give off the aura of being hopelessly childish. But then, if not, hereditary legacies would force me to suffer from high blood pressure and stress. grin It's my charm for life.  
Part 5, yes I can see why that might be your favourite part. I rewrote that part a dozen or so times on paper, by hand, while I was on holiday in America. So it had plenty of time to be edited. And Hee-chan acted out of character, in a fun kind of way that was designed to go over the top of Duo's definition of 'loose'. It might or might not happen again in this story, I know what's going to happen but muses and reaction and stuff… yeah. It WILL happen in the sequel. Not identically, but definitively OOC. But MOST OOC in the conclusion of this trilogy. After all, they are here to learn. For now, we'll have to settle for his one-mindedness. (it's my favourite part, too)**_

**_Oh! And any spelling mistakes can be blamed on incompetent English teachers, and/or my spell-check program, because I, myself, am PERFECT! (or to amend that statement: I am MORE perfect than my father, who claims to be the paragon of perfection. I refuse to be outdone! I may have lost the battle of height, but THIS I refuse to give ground on!) (This seems sad, coming from a twenty year old.)_**

**_Well that was all, for today at least, toodles! ;-D_**


End file.
